Touch of Spring in Winter
by code name baron
Summary: All Kim did was help an injured man. All Jack wants is to remain numb and finish his personal mission. Good deeds and best intentions do go hand in hand, after all. - AU where Jack speaks the language of violence and danger fluently and Kim learns some basic first aid rather quickly. Brooding, angry guy meets a sweet girl.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: this is my attempt at dark Jack, which makes him entirely OOC. I'd like to warn that many tropes shall be embraced in this fic. So many tropes...

* * *

The car gave a small lurch and in the next few minutes Kim heard that quiet flapping noise. There was no mistaking it: she probably had a flat tire.

Of course, as the Murphy's law dictated, it was already late and she was on the side of the road. Not exactly safe, but this was whereabouts of Seaford, so she thought she'd be fine.

She pulled to the shoulder and got out to check the tires. The front left one was halfway deflated and she didn't think she'd make to the house on it. She either had to call her dad to pick her up and have the car towed or have the spare donut tire put in.

Although her dad made her replace the tire when she got her car, Kim kind of dreaded doing it. Maybe she'd just call her parents. Her mom at least would be all for calling and not staying late on the road by herself.

Kim was about to call when she spotted a small movement further up. Her heart sped up as she imagined a wild animal ( _please, be an animal_ ) or worse. Hand poised on the keys of her phone, she took one step closer.

If it was an animal, it was a big one. And it was hurt, because she saw blood tracks. Two more steps and Kim's heart jumped and lodged itself in the throat.

This was no animal.

Before her lay, curled up and bleeding, a man.

She forgot her fear and quickly came up to him, not caring about her knees going into the dirt and gravel that dug into the bare skin. Shaking hands checked the pulse and she breathed in relief. He was alive!

Her hand was still on his wrist, when suddenly he grabbed her hand and pulled it tight to him. The movement brought her close to him just as his other hand shot up to catch her by the throat.

"Mghm," she bleated out, fear and surprise all mixed and muffled.

"Who- are- you? I don't think... they'd sent a... girl after me," he said in a gruff voice. Despite the fact that he had his hands on her throat and restrained her, she stopped worrying. He was very weak and as soon as he spoke, his hands shook and he let go. Eyes closed in obvious pain and his head dropped down.

Kim gulped some air and tried to calm her own shaking hands.

"Hey, buddy, I think you need to go to the hospital."

"Nnoo," the guy managed through pain, face contorting in grimace.

"Yes, you do," Kim wasn't deterred. "I'll call 911 and-'

"No! No police and no hospital!" The guy said very forcefully and immediately dissolved into a hacking fit. He stopped and Kim nearly fainted when she saw blood collect at the side of his mouth.

Now she could see that his face was bruised and bloody in spots; that his hoody was dirty and torn; his knuckles scraped and raw. She looked around and didn't see any cars or bikes around. How did he end up on the highway looking like he's gone through a ringer?

Scenarios, one worse than the other ran through her head. He didn't want police or hospitals, he was obviously in a fight, he was dumped on the side of the road...

"Okay... No authorities then. Got it," Kim said it casually, despite a new kind of fear rising in her. It was _so_ not good...

"Hey, so, can I take you somewhere? To get help?" His eyes were closed and Kim poked his shoulder, because it didn't look bloody or dirty, "Hey, buddy. Stay with me."

He blinked eyes open, a fine sheen of sweat covering his face.

 _Oh God_ , Kim panicked, _please don't die on me_.

"Manny's... Custom... Desi-" he coughed badly and winced as his hand went to his side. "...on Fullerton..." he rasped and promptly closed eyes again clearly worn out by the effort.

"Right. Driving. Ok. I can do it. Come on, Kim. Just go change the tire, put the bleeding man in the car and get him to the other side of town. No biggie..."

He looked so pale, she kind of dreaded that he was far worse than just roughed up. What if he was bleeding out? Like, seriously bleeding out internally or something...

She gingerly moved the hoody and swallowed hard against the rising bile. His shirt was soaked in blood. His left side was especially wet and Kim, trying not to breathe, looked closer. There was a cut or a tear in his shirt high enough as if he was- _Oh, no..._ _Please be just a knife wound_. Clumsy and clammy hands went to lift the shirt and there was too much blood and not enough light.

 _Too much blood... He was gonna bleed out..._

She ran to her car and grabbed the flashlight and the first aid kit her dad put there.

"Thank you, paranoid parents, for putting this stuff here," she muttered and then blanched. What if her stuff was expired? Did the first aid stuff expire? _Oh, god_ , the man's gonna die because she had an expired Neosporin.

A hysterical laughter bubbled in her. He's gonna die of blood loss, not because of her old Neosporin. _Oh god_ , a man was dying and she was having hysterical moment here. But, for the record, she did not take First Aid classes when they were offered in school. And all she planned on doing was to go home and ran through her concerto again. It wasn't every evening that high school seniors got to see an actual wounded person.

She breathed in and out: she could do it.

It took a lot of her strength to roll him over. She could tell even from this position that he was taller than her, but it was also obvious that he was built, which was probably why he was so heavy.

"Steroids. That has got to be steroids. You better hope I don't break or sprain my hands, buddy. Or you'll have to listen to me, my mom and my tutor complain about it," she muttered as she moved the man.

She pulled his arms out of the hoody sleeves and pulled up as much of his shirt as she could. Holding the flashlight in her mouth she looked him over. _'Definitely steroids_ ,' she decided absently when she stopped wanting to faint. There was just too much blood. There must have been three more cuts than the first one she saw. Nasty thick bruises were forming on his ribs and chest. He had them lacing around his shoulders and neck. His left eye was swollen almost completely shut and a small gash over the eyebrow with another cut on the apple of his cheek. Small cuts were sporadically placed around his torso. His mouth was caked with blood and she had a feeling he might have knocked a few teethe loose or at least cut up the inside of his mouth. His lower lip was plump and split in two places.

Whoever did this to him, they meant business. If they didn't want him to die, they wanted to sideline him for a long time.

She started with wet towelettes and wiping down the side of his body. He would moan or hiss occasionally, but otherwise remained silent. There were some pre-sanitized towelettes in the box and she used them on the cuts. Blood was seeping slowly out of the three smaller ones on his hand and shoulder and she sighed in relief. Those were not too bad looking. The first one, a couple of inches below his left pec, was still bleeding at a steady rate and she stopped with the towelettes and used the end of her scarf doused in hand sanitizer. _It had to work the same as hydrogen peroxide, right?_ Ointment from tiny packets was enough for the smaller cuts and scrapes, because they were superficial and not deep at all.

She took in his appearance little by little, now that she had a chance, and he was a fine looking man. She didn't have much time to dwell on the finer points of his body of course: he was semi-conscious and fading fast. However, he was sporting an eight pack and developed shoulders. He wasn't crazy built, like a bodybuilder, but his muscles were cut sharp. She noticed the way the muscles of his shoulders and arms were pronounced even in relaxed state ( _deltoid? biceps? triceps? What are you thinking, Kim? Stop objectifying the wounded man!)._ His pecs looked smooth and pillowed but when she put the cream over them they were rock solid.

When she finished with small wounds, she looked at the big cut. It was soaking her scarf and she knew that it meant that it was deeper than most. Her first aid box was woefully unprepared to deal with this sort of wound, so she used all of the gauze pads, secured them with band-aids, and wrapped her ruined scarf around his torso as tightly as she could. She had to thread the scarf under him, rolling him to and from to help the process and by the end of it, he was moaning and wincing and Kim was sweaty and tired.

She sat back on her hunches and looked at the man before her. He was much younger now that he cleaned off his face. Probably a little older than her. Nice regular features, a mole on the cheek, longish brown hair. Between his decent looking face and seriously buff body, the guy was a looker.

"Ok, buddy, you have to wait here. I'll go and change the tire. Don't die."

By now her own clothes were in a sorry state and her top had traces of blood on it. Kim swallowed again. _You just cleaned a bunch of knife wounds off a strange guy, what's a bit of blood,_ she scolded herself.

By comparison, changing tire was a piece of cake. It still took her some time, but she rolled up to where the guy was lying in less than 15 minutes.

The whole ordeal of getting him into the car was more work-out than Kim had had in a week. She had pulled him to the car first; then she made him sit up and prop him against the side of the car; then she opened the back door and trying pulling him in from inside. It didn't work. So she sat next to him, hugged him and had to heave him up. It must have hurt a lot, because he came to and then managed to move himself enough that Kim was able to pull him inside all the way. He passed out again and she quickly checked the wound. Yep, it was seeping through again and she wondered if where she was taking him would be more equipped to deal with it.

 _Please, please, don't die._

She drove to Fullerton street, which thankfully was the only one in the city and was fairly short. Manny's Custom Designs was a junky looking garage and mechanics shop, which looked closed. She looked at her patient and looked at closed doors again.

Right... This was probably more than a garage and she parked her car in the customer parking lot. She walked up to the front entrance and knocked as loudly as she could.

Then she repeated it again and again.

"That's it buddy. If there's no answer, I am taking you to the hospi-" she trailed off when a door was wrenched open and a young curly-haired guy glared at her.

"Can't you see, it's closed!' he went about to close the door and Kim stuck her foot in.

"Wait! He's bleeding- That is- The guy, he said to bring him here- I mean- Please, help him," Kim wasn't proud to admit it, but she begged.

"Who's bleeding? Who's he?" the guy immediately looked alert and peered above her head.

"He's in my car-" the guy stepped out and started walking to her car. "I found him on the Rt. 101. He was bleeding, but he said no hospital, so... I hope you can help him."

By now they reached her car and he wrenched the back door open.

"Damn, J-man," he muttered and leaned over to help her patient up. Kim's eyes went large when she saw that he had a handgun stuck in the back of his pants. _Oh god_ , it was as bad as she thought...

J-man moaned and briefly opened his eyes.

"Hey, J-dog," the injured man whispered and Kim wondered if it was some sort of intentional thing with the nicknames starting with J. Like, gangs and stuff...

J-dog got his friend up, but obviously he was too heavy. Kim stepped up and together they half-dragged, half-carried J-man to the door. As soon as they got there, it opened and someone's hands pulled the injured guy in.

J-dog turned to Kim and gave her a long assessing look, "Thanks. And he was serious when he said 'no hospitals.' It also means no police."

Kim shuffled her feet, "I got it. He said that too."

The guy kept looking at her with intent eyes, "It would be best if you forgot the whole thing happened. J-man doesn't need complications and we would know if you told people on us."

Suddenly, he didn't look so young and Kim realized that he was dead serious. Between his buddy being beaten and knifed, the whole store open at night to deal with bleeding people, his gun and the late hour, Kim believed them.

"Ok. I'll just go then. Bye," with an awkward wave, she practically ran to her car.

By the time she made it home, it was quite late and she spent some time changing into her cheerleader uniform top, because hers was hopelessly ruined. Thankfully, J-man hasn't really bled on her backseats and she only had to wipe a little of blood off.

All in all, it was a crazy evening. She got home to be greeted by her mom's concerned looks and words. She explained her lateness and a different top by blaming everything on the flat tire and the effort to replace it. Her dad was proud of his lessons and promised to fix the donut. Her mom told her that her lesson could of course wait and Kim collapsed on the bed exhausted.

She obviously ran into a guy, who was into some shady things. Humanitarian that she was, she was glad she helped him, but was also thankful to be done with it all.

Her dreams were full of bloody and menacing men, whose faces sneered at her. She woke up tired and tried to get on with her day. Since her car was still with a donut tire and it might take some time to get it to the shop, she called her friend Grace for pick up.

Grace wanted to know all about the flat tire and how Kim wasn't afraid of being alone in the dark on the road.

She could only muse that she wasn't alone yesterday.

The day of classes and practices was just like any other day and Kim could pretend that she didn't have the strangest encounter of her life just the night before.

In the light of the day, she was ready to discount her own impressions of the guy she met being a dangerous man - part of the gang or something - if it wasn't for a vivid memory of the deep cut and seeping blood, or the glint of light off his friend's handgun.

When Grace dropped her off at her place, Kim was startled by her friend's words.

"Who's your dad's mechanic? They work fast."

Kim looked where Grace was pointing and saw that her car had a new tire already.

It was only after her dad casually mentioned that she must have replaced it already that Kim got the inkling of unease. She checked her car and saw that it was spotlessly clean and her first aid kit replaced with something larger and more substantial (it had butterfly bandages and surgical glue!).

 _Huh,_ she guessed that J-dog was right: they knew how to find her and would know if she told anyone.

Kim shivered with the cold feeling and looked around the street as if she could see lurking figures.

Well, she wasn't planning on mentioning it to anyone, so it should be fine. He clearly thanked her for her help yesterday and that was it.

She decided to forget ever running into J-man and his crew.

A/N: yay, nay, not sure? I myself am still not sure about this plot, as I usually write decent Jacks. This Jack is darker, more complicated, has some hazardous habits. Should I go on with the story?


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you all for encouraging and awesome reviews. To Anna: yes, I saw the typos and can only blame the auto-fill. I will update the chapter, but after I post this one.

Here is some background on Jack. Almost 4K words worth... Did I mention he's complicated? Or that the story shall have tropes?

* * *

Jack was nine when he saw his first dead body. He didn't even realize the man was dead. It was understandable, really. He and his mom were under attack inside their home and as little as Jack was, he helped mom fight the men off. He just jumped on the back of one of them - it was almost like a game he played with his friends - when his dad exploded through the door and amid the noises of slammed doors, shouts, scuffle, and a lot of bad words, Jack quite missed the _bang._ But he saw the man, who was on top of his mom, go still, a red spot on his back growing bigger by the second.

Everyone was momentarily stunned and Jack used the opportunity to smack the head of the man, whose back he was on, with a frying pan. The man went down and the noise restarted the time. Dad moved swiftly and with more 'bang bang' all the attackers were lying still.

Jack smiled wide at his dad, the reality of the situation not quite setting in, "Dad, d'you see? I smacked this one with a pan and another one - I kicked him in the _plums!"_ The thought was so hysterical to him, he started laughing.

His dad gave him quick smile and ruffled his hair. He sat on his hunches and quickly run hands over Jack, "You okay, drago mio?"*

He didn't wait for answer and went to check on mom. She was very pale and her lip was cut, so Jack ran to her with all the fuss and kisses of a little boy. As soon as he was within reach she clutched him close, kissing and crying like that time when he broke his hand.

"I'm fine, mommy. Should you go see a doctor for your boo-boo?" he asked. "And we should call police."

"No," his dad's voice was hard, cold, uncompromising. "Grab some clothes and toys you must have, drago. We're leaving in twenty minutes. Think it's enough time for you, love?"

"Should we just go now?" his mom's voice trembled and Jack didn't like it.

"They made a mistake and haven't sent enough people. Soon they'd expect a check-in and if there isn't one... Make it fifteen," dad spoke in riddles, but his mom obviously got it and scrambled upstairs and dragged Jack with her.

It was on the way out that Jack realized that none of the men moved. He stared at the man with a giant red spot on the back and finally had an inkling of what happened.

"Mommy," he whispered. "Is that man dead? Is that blood? How did it hap-?"

He didn't get to finish as his mom choked on tears that ran freely down her face, and dad simply lifted him up and walked out of the house, "Not a word about it until we are at least three hours out. You understand me, drago?"

His dad was serious. Like, 'timeout was in the future' serious. But more importantly, Jack could feel the hard shape that was at dad's waist, where Jack's leg was. He knew what it was. Seen enough of them on TV and in movies. It was the thing that made bang-bang noises and made red flowers bloom on people's clothes. Like the man in the house.

 _His dad made the red flowers bloom._

Jack threw up. And stayed silent for three days and cried when terrors crowded his nights.

His dad gave him stoic looks and it would have stayed this bad, but then one night at a motel, when Jack couldn't sleep, he heard his dad speak in a choked voice.

"I never wanted him to see- to know- and like this... I hate this part of me. As much as I got away, it's still in there, sitting like a devil and waiting to jump out. How can you look at me now, love? Why don't you leave me? Take him and leave?"

"It is part of you that you left behind. For me. I came to love you, all of you. And without this part of you, we wouldn't be here right now. Alive. Either me or Jack. If I leave you now, there is no telling if they won't find us. At least if I am with you my chances of making it out alive are higher. And... if you go - I go."

"I promise to you, inamorata*, I'd have to be deader than dead before any one of them takes you or him away. I promise."

"I don't need your promises. I just need you."

The next morning Jack talked to his parents at breakfast and the sheer relief and love in their eyes bowled him over. Later, when mom was packing up their things, Jack spoke to Dad about what happened in the house and what he saw.

"They were bad people, who wanted to hurt us," he stated, knowing it to be the truth.

"Yes, but as long as I have breath in my body, drago mio, I will protect you from them."

"I want to help. To protect mom and myself too."

"Drago... I don't want you to deal with-"

"Dad. I know, but sometimes the good guys also have to get hands dirty and beat the bad guys. I want to be able to defend myself."

"Jack..." his dad's voice sad and his expression helpless. "Sometimes fighting, like in your movies and TV shows is not enough. Those bad guys are really-really bad."

"I get it. It's like talking to someone in their own language. Sometimes it's the only way to make sure they understand, right? So, I want to learn to fight like you do."

His dad agreed and taught him this language of violence and battle.

His mom, who had insomnia for months afterwards and would spent nights in a vigil over him, read him stories - enchanting fairy tales and books about little princes and roses - and made him draw the illustrations to go with the stories. He chafed at what he thought was a childish and useless task, until he saw his mom read through them with shiny eyes and tell his dad how happy she was to have her carefree child back. He stopped griping about books and pictures and made them extra colorful to get the bigger smiles from mom.

He also got the first taste of hate and anger, when he saw his mom jump nervously during thunderstorms. He wanted to hurt those bad guys.

* * *

They moved around a lot for the next couple of years and they changed their name. His dad kept his promise and taught Jack to fight.

He was Jacob Brown before, and when they finally settle in Seaford he became Jackson Brewer. He preferred it to Jacob or Giacomo, which was what his dad called him when Jack was in trouble. This move seemed to be the last one. Dad relaxed, started his own business and they bought the house. Jack relaxed too: it meant the bad guys probably weren't coming here.

Jack started the new middle school and made friends. He kept up his martial arts practice whenever he could with boxing thrown in.

Mom re-painted each room and planted flowers in the garden, looking younger and prettier than she had in a while and Jack realized that the worry was gnawing on her days in and out.

The anger he felt was just an echo of that first taste of it, but it was enough to power his punches and kicks. He was growing stronger.

* * *

Jack was twelve when his dad took him to a shooting range and showed him how to assemble and disassemble a gun and a rifle. By now Jack was past the point of being a precocious child and asked dad directly about his observations.

The story was a hard one to absorb. Dad was in a gang before. Part of organized crime syndicate. He lived a harsh and violent life, but gave it up to be with mom. Of course, leaving his old life wasn't easy and he and mom were on the run ever since. Apparently, dad was _really_ good in this 'art of death and danger' and he pissed off a lot of people.

Jack, having seen the movies and read books, put the concept of organized crime, life on the run with 'drago' and 'Giacomo,' and concluded that his father was part of the Italian mob. He looked at his dad more carefully and it made the most sense: his dad was dark-haired, had an olive-skin tone, loved pasta and had used plenty of Italian words in everyday life.

Jack read the books on Italian mobs obsessively for the next year. His trained obsessively too. The idea that the 'bad guys' were really-really bad and that his father defied a mafia made him admire his parents and even more determined to survive. He read about what happened to traitors of the 'famiglia.'*

He also tried to distance himself from his friends. It seemed that having as little connections as possible would serve him better. Because, unspoken and hidden, a desire for revenge grew in Jack along with the anger.

He didn't succeed in alienating Milton and Jerry, but he convinced them to join the dojo with him. He even participated in Milton's reenactments of battles with swords and bow-and-arrow. He figured any combat training would be good.

* * *

His father had him memorize account numbers and code combinations for safe boxes in at least two banks. He also took him on a month-long camping trip, making Jack learn to survive with little more than matchbox and a pocket knife. He learned to set up a simple trap and had to kill a fox that got caught.

He didn't throw up then, but he was off meat for almost a year afterwards.

Mom took him to ballet and opera performance, stretching his patience and tolerance, but he knew what she was doing by now. Art, music, sophistication, all the finer things in life were her counterpoints to all the hard survival skills his dad was instilling in him. He didn't want to disappoint mom, who just had discovered her first white hair and attributed it to the worry over him. He, of course, knew the reason for her worries and insomnia that came back after his camping trip. So, he sat through ballet performances and commented on sheer athleticism of dancers, and when it was a symphony concert he'd talk about the string section of the orchestra and the conductor.

When he sparred, he'd imagined the bad guys, who made mom skittish, and the anger was a familiar friend that went hand in hand with the growing strength of his body.

* * *

Jack was fourteen when his father introduced knives and blades into his training routine. 'Guns are fast and easy way to win, drago. But you must be good at all forms of fighting. You need to be fast, agile, think quick on your feet. Even when you are hurt and scared, your muscle memory could save the day.' At the dojo and gym, Jack learned to fight by the rules. With his father and the gym, he took Jack to, there were no rules and only one objective: be the last man standing.

Mom made him volunteer in the old people's home and at the soup kitchen for the homeless. That's how he found his next trainer. Grant was an ex-military and his PTSD made him unstable for a regular job. Jack noticed his trained body and, even more obvious, the mans' very trained responses and initiated a conversation. Which ended up being an impromptu sparring session. Grant was an entirely different man when he was sparring and Jack quickly realized that he was utterly not a match to the man. He arranged a meeting between his dad and Grant and slowly made Grant part of his life. Grant was invaluable in the gym and an incredible sparring partner, who everyone respected. He was also still too affected by his experiences in the war zone and it was his mom, who gently coaxed the man to the therapy. It helped and Grant was hired on a permanent basis at the gym and even rented a place nearby.

His dad appreciated what Grant could do for Jack's training. His mom admired Jack for his efforts with a homeless man.

It was around this time that dad let Jack know that his business - Sapere Solutions* - was intel gathering and trading. Corporate espionage, to be exact. Apparently, dad took some of the skills from his previous life and transferred them into a civilian life. 'Knowledge is power, drago. A different kind from money and weapons, but no less important.'

Jack learned a thing or two about information gathering.

* * *

Jack was fifteen when his father let him in on what would be the final secret - he told him the name of the family that was behind the 'bad guys.' He now understood the need for all this excessive preparedness. His parents have set-up a trust for him to make sure he got his education and even arranged for their choice of guardians to step in if something happened to them: Milton's and Jerry's parents in that order. Jack was given the name of family lawyers, shown the will, a stash of money, and a passport (with his face, but a different name) at the home safety box.

He was also discovered by his mom with a girl he met at a party. Thankfully, they were still dressed, although he did have his hand up her shirt. His mom paled and stuttered and refused to look him in the eye for a whole week. Which was fine: he couldn't look her in the eye either.

His dad, once he learned on what had happened, had a very honest conversation with him about everything that went on between a man and a woman. It was far more practical and certainly more descriptive than any Health classes he had. Dad spoke clinically and openly about all possible acts that could happen during sex. When the sheer volume of information threatened to overwhelm Jack - and he'd heard stories and seen some porn - he asked his dad about when one knew when one was in love.

His dad's face went through a series of emotions - surprise, vulnerable openness, soft wonder - and then settled on a patient smile.

"Jack, I only ever loved once. Your mother, when she came into my life, it was like I lived through constant winter and forgot how being warm felt like. Then she appeared, unlike anyone in my life at that point, and I was at first irritated and frustrated. But even those first interactions were enough to start the thawing. I only regret that I was selfish to want to keep her, her love, for myself instead of letting go. Being with me brought all this trouble into her life. But, we have you and it's the best things that ever happened to me," he shook his head and turned to Jack. "Enjoy your life now, Jack. It is normal. Healthy even. Just… You are too young now, and when you are ready for relationships, even if they don't hold your heart, you have to promise me to be completely upfront with them about your expectations. Respect and clear lines of communications. Promise me, drago."

"I promise."

Jack held up his end of the deal. He never led the girls on and he certainly was upfront about what his expectations were. The only thing that he didn't follow his dad on was _when_ he started. Apparently being a very fit teen made him look older and he ended up having his first experience the same year he had that conversation with dad.

* * *

Not long after, his parents died in a home invasion gone wrong. Per the police report, there were four bodies at the property. Also, per the report, Jack found his parents and called 911. That alone was enough to warrant mandatory therapy sessions.

He attended those. And listened to the lawyer his parents hired and paid. He gave statements, attended sessions, listened though the reading of the official will...

He did it all while existing in the cocoon of numbness that was worrying everyone, but was welcoming to him.

He came to live with Milton. He knew Milton's parents were wary of housing another young man, who's gone through a traumatic experience. They rallied enough, though. Jack and Milton had been friends for a long time and when Milton was younger, Jack protected him from bullies of all stripes.

They sat together - _as a family, Jack, because you are part of us now_ \- and decided that it would be best if Jack and Milton attended a different school the next year. The choice was obvious - private school, where Milton could be challenged and where few would know of Jack and his tragic family history.

He agreed. He'd agree to anything at that moment, keen on keeping the numbness.

Because if he did let go of it, if he allowed himself to feel, he was afraid he'd lay waste to everything around him.

* * *

No matter how he tried, he could not forget the way his parents were in death: amongst the gore, and destruction, and blood, his parents lay next to each other hand in hand.

When his therapist tried to get him to talk through the 'that evening,' about what he saw and felt, Jack simply left the office and got to the gym, where he tried to destroy punching bags with bare hands and then fought with Grant with ferocity of the rabid animal. When he finally fell, exhausted, with bloody knuckles and out of breath, he felt a little better. The numbness was not covering him entirely, but where it cracked, anger filled in the space.

Anger he could deal with. Anger was productive.

* * *

Unfortunately, he didn't quite have the same control over his dreams. Sometimes Jack woke up with nightmares (more like memories) of being there - always too late, unable to do anything to help his parents.

 _Sometimes he was too late to help himself._

It wasn't as frequent as he afraid it would be, and he was grateful for small favors.

He always woke from them feeling like no matter the amount of time, he was never too far away from that night.

He could almost predict when the night would be bad. Usually, something or someone would intentionally or inadvertently bring up his parents. Last time it happened, he was walking the halls of the Swarthmore, the school uniform uncomfortable despite being well made, when one of his classmates threw a phrase about Milton and him. Something along the lines of 'if I didn't see the car they rode, I'd think they were scholarship charity cases.' Jack planned to ignore the guy. These were insignificant boys and none of them would say anything to his face, cowardly avoiding confrontation with him. But it did start the entire conversation about how was it that Jack lived with Milton's family and the speculations were insane. It was only when the first guy said that he had to wonder what sort of parents Jack had that they got rid of him so quickly that Jack felt the numbness lift and the prickling of the rising anger.

He slammed his locker door and turned to face the group of boys. It was almost satisfying to see them cower away from him. He firmly enjoyed the reputation of 'weird guy with anger issuers" that kept most people at bay. He saw Milton approach from the other end and his friend took only one look at the tableaux in front of him and hastened to join Jack.

"Jack, let's go. They are not worth it. Also, that is my lab partner and we have an assignment due, so, please..."

He didn't want to be an asshole to Milton, but his pride swelled at the thought of that little rich fuck cowering away from him. The predator inside woke up at the possibility of losing the safety of numbness. The angry Jack was always there, always one misstep away, and this public mention of his parents thrown him into an internal war. He almost listened to Milton, but the prick was still there - talking.

"Go ahead and listen to your _smart_ brother. I have no idea why they keep a Neanderthal here. Have to wonder about your pare-"

This was as far as the guy got, before Jack laid him out with a hard punch. Jack stalked to where the boy has fallen and dragged him up by the shirtfront. The anger was churning inside ready to strike and Jack placed two more fast punches into boy's already bruising and bloodied face, when Milton's voice pierced his bubble.

"Jack, let go. I mean it, Jack! You'd get expelled!" seeing that Jack really wasn't reacting, Milton added quietly. "And me too... Please, Jack. He's not worth it."

That got Jack to drop the boy and step away from the crumpled body. He looked around to see all the school kids looking at him in apprehension and downright fear, and he was both repulsed and pleased by it.

* * *

He got suspended. As did the unfortunate victim. Milton and others painted a picture of unnecessary and cruel taunts that provoked Jack's outburst.

When he got back, everyone gave him a wide berth and no one mentioned his family ever again. Milton offered silent support and Jack finally told him about his intent to find the guys behind the home invasion. Because it wasn't just a home invasion. Milton didn't quite believe him, but indulged Jack. He broke into the Seaford Police Department database and got all the notes on the case.

It was the start of Jack's quest. Knowledge was power, after all.

It was also when he realized that he needed an outlet to the anger and he joined the underground fighting ring, where matches were brutal and the payoff - big. He didn't need the money (although it didn't hurt), but he relished the opportunity to let loose the beast that now firmly stuck inside him.

*drago mio (Italian) - my dragon. If I recall correctly, one of Jack's nicknames on the show was the Lil' Dragon.

*inamorata (Italian) - beloved.

*famiglia (Italian) - family.

*Sapere e potere (Italian) - knowledge is power.

A/N: Sorry, no Kick here. I hope this Jack is not a let down from whatever expectations the first chapter created. There will be more on Jack in the next chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I am often asked what my recommendations are and, honestly, I read so much and in so many fandoms, my page would be too enormous. Currently, in Kickin' It, I am reading _The Zoo: Kim's Republic_ , _Living Memories_ , and a new find _Spyin' It: Season 1_. Go and check out these stories.

So, Jack is a bit not good. Understandable intentions, questionable execution. And Kim is here, indirectly.

* * *

"Oh yesss, please, harder! Oh - oh - I'm gonna... yes!"

Jack smashed his hips down one last time as the girl underneath him arched her back upwards, her voice breathy and thready with pleasure.

"Oooo... Jack!"

Jack felt the pulsing squeeze around him and drove into that heat again and again, chasing his own completion. She whimpered, the force of thrusts pushing her up the sheets, and he moved one hand on her shoulder, holding her in place. He bent his face down to her level as his strong lower body started slowing down, but pumping into her with force all the same.

Closing his eyes and clenching the jaw, one lock of his dark hair was dangling down and tickling her neck, he concentrated on the memory. G _olden hair, smooth skin, warm delicate hands, soft voice..._

"Yesss..." he hissed, the orgasm just within reach, when the girl whispered _babe..._

"Fuck," he snapped, the voice ruining the image, and pulled his throbbing dick out and brought himself to completion all over the girl's curvy body. _Too curvy, not slender and petite..._

There was a sudden calmness, only interrupted by the sound of the bass down below, Jerry DJ-ing the party to the hilt. Sometimes it really was convenient to go to the rich kid's school with so many 'busy' and indulgent parents.

Jack panted and dropped himself down on the bed next to the girl whose name he didn't quite remember. No, he did - Bianca - he just didn't really care. She tried to play romantic and cuddle next to him, still dripping wet with white as Jack regained his breath and pushed her off him with one palm.

"What's wrong, babe?" she teased, catching her breath and trying to straighten out her trembling legs.

Jack stared at her, detachment and dissatisfaction already rising in him, and stood up, "Bianca, thank you. This was fun, but let's leave the cute pet names for your boyfriend. Who is not me."

She pouted and looked sad at that. Jack had this way of making all girls feel special before he fucked and disposed them with no more than an orgasm, a memory and thanks.

"I thought maybe..." the girl trailed off under Jack's now cold eyes as he towered over her, brushing his dark locks back.

Jack noticed her staring from his face to his body to his dick as he smirked, "That was it, though, right? We enjoyed each other, nothing more, nothing less." Jack waved his hand dismissively as he tucked himself in and pulled his shirt while strolling to leave.

"You... You... Bastard!" she gasped and flew at him, hand raised to strike.

He caught her hand and twisted it behind her back, pushing her face forward on the bed. He followed up with a knee on the small of her back and leaned over the now whimpering girl. She was still naked and he was momentarily distracted to appreciate the soft butt that was under him.

"Enough!" his voice was harsh and he hissed the next words mockingly, "What's the matter, _babe?_ I thought you liked our time together? Or did I mistake your pussy squeezing me just now?" She whimpered again and he swore he felt her move her body into his. Oh, she liked it rough. Another time he'd appreciate a girl like that. Sometimes, when the fighting wasn't enough... But not this moment. Well, better stop this here and now. He switched to the cold and harsh tones of earlier, "You came with me willingly. I promised nothing but good times for all. I believe I was clear about how long this would last."

He walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. His mood soured ever more than it had before the trip to the bedroom with the flavor of the hour. Guys greeted him with smirks as he joined them downstairs. Jerry smiled from behind the sound equipment and Milton just shook his head, going back to his tablet. Yeah, no surprises there. Sometimes he didn't know why Milton bothered coming to these parties at all. He never drank, or taken any drugs, or even hooked up with girls. Of course, Milton'd tell them he was there to watch after Jerry and Jack.

Jack scoffed at the thought.

As if Jack needed anyone watching after him... Despite his recent experience, Jack Brewer could take most of the guys here in a fight. Even more than one at a time. Jack was good at it. When he fought, all the extraneous and external thoughts fell away, leaving him with single focus and determination to hit, to wound, to win. He was really good at it. Not just his fists, and kicks, and hooks. Jack was good at being a fighter. His mind worked the best at seeing many little details about the situation, the opponent, his weaknesses, everything. More importantly, Jack was willing to take every advantage. It was like he said once to Milton, who was a brown belt himself, 'you have to hit to break, to knockout, to incapacitate.'

But Milton normally would hardly break a rule, let alone hit someone viciously. Now Jack smiled a small and genuine smile. Milton was one of his best friends. He and Jerry were really the only ones Jack could call his own at this moment and he would do anything for them. And they would the same.

Even Milton. Even break the rules. Which he did numerous times.

Milton finally put down his tablet and turned to Jack, "Are you ready to listen to me now or are you still in need of, eh... satisfaction?"

Jack smirked at his friend's politeness, "I am ready to listen even if I am not entirely satisfied."

"Ah... I thought... Didn't Bianca accompany you upstairs?" just as he said it, his cheeks grew red.

"Oh, she did. And she was most accommodating, but- Never mind. What did you want to tell me?"

"The information you wanted? On the Bruneri family?" Milton's dark blue eyes were darting everywhere and Jack agreed: this was hardly a conversation to be had in public.

"Not here. Let's go to Manny's," he got up and motioned to Jerry, who passed the headphones to another guy and followed his friends.

* * *

They got to the body shop, that was their second home by now. In reality, it was Jerry's grandfather's shop that Jerry essentially ran. His grandfather was ill. Very ill, so Jerry stepped in. Of course, he had numerous relatives to actually do the job, but everyone knew that it was Jerry, who floated the shop when times were bad with the money the three of them made. In return, Jerry had unfettered access to the property and they took over the back room as their own.

Milton equipped it with the technology he deemed necessary. Milton took to tracking information (hacking, if Jack were honest) like duck to water. That first breach into police database was a gateway to tracing more information. They pieced together that the perpetrators were in fact career criminals and Jack's theory of this being a hit job was all but confirmed. Milton's curiosity was peaked and they found more and more details. Jack wanted the name of the client, who ordered the hit, and the channels through which the order came through. It was a slower going and in the meantime, Milton stumbled across a lot of information on local criminals. Thinking himself to be a 'hacktivist' Milton convinced Jack to intervene on some of the deals. What started as one or two times, became the entire operation of sabotage and justice with neat folders of collected information landing with the police tip line officers.

Jack let him think that. In reality, hand over of information to the police was the end result his search, because first and foremost, Jack looked for any bits of knowledge on people in his list. He traded information, squeezing sources dry and not being particularly polite about it. Often, once Jack got his information, he'd set people against each other and in the dust-ups Jack got closer to completing his mission. Of course, to Milton it meant that Seaford got a little safer for a brief moment. Jack, and to the extent Jerry, knew that nature abhorred vacuum and new criminals filled the space.

By this point, many thought that a new crew was on the streets trying to stake its territory. It helped that Milton and Jack were good at technology and once they got their hands on anyone's phone, they had plenty material to work with.

There were other perks aside from collection of information and an outlet for Jack's anger. It was how they managed to fund their operation and how they had their own stash of weapons. Milton frowned and refused to touch either, but Jerry was not as well-off as them. Between his grandfather's illness and the failing shop, Jerry had many obligations and his mom struggled alone. Jerry, lazy and undisciplined student, was a loyal son to this family. He was equally loyal friend and in some ways, Jack and Milton were his family too.

It was quietly acknowledged that Jerry probably wouldn't go to college, while also obvious that Milton would. Perhaps that was the reason Jerry took to shadow operations of Sapere Solutions so eagerly. It was dangerous and Jack insisted on doing most of the work alone, but sometimes Jerry was uniquely qualified to do it. He was pretty good at it too. Jack argued that he didn't want to drag his friends with him down this path of revenge, but they were stubborn and he relented. Still, in his mind, after this last year of high school, he would simply leave to complete his mission and his friends would go on to leave their lives without him. Milton would ace any college he'd end up, and Jerry would be well funded to continue with the shop.

Beyond the computer hub - it was a lot more than just one computer, of course - the room also had a small cot and a giant medicine cabinet with enough supplies to deal with any non-life-threatening injuries they might have.

He gave the cot a side eye, vividly remembering the last time he was on it, bleeding under the crude bandage held by the delicate scarf. It was hopelessly ruined and Jerry threw it out, before Jack could protest.

 _What do you care about scarves? Or slender blondes, for that matter?_

He shook his head and sat down opposite Milton, "So?"

There was frustratingly no progress on finding out who attacked Jack. Milton tried his magic and Jack had his suspicions. So, when Milton came up with nothing, Jack asked him to check on one name that was always on the forefront of his mind.

"So, the Bruneri family runs Bruneri, Inc. The current head of the family, Massimo Bruneri, is almost 78 and has one heir apparent, his grandson Caio Bruneri, son of Carlo Bruneri, who was killed in an accident."

"That's all public information, Milton! What else do you have?"

"Less publicly known is the fact that they are a typical organized crime operation in the mold of the original Italian mobs of the East Coast. They have some affiliates here, but they are not very active as this area has plenty of competition."

Jack looked sharply at that, "Anything else?"

"They had been investigated numerous times. Massimo is an influential figure, admired for his stoic strength. He lost his two sons to what is belived to be the gang war. Despite Caio being his only surviving family, Massimo is tough on him, raising him to take over the business, both legitimate and not. Supposedly, Caio is given reign over one aspect of the shadow business, to test the waters so to speak. But obviously not enforcement."

"Why? Is he too young?"

"Barely twenty, but I believe the idea is to keep his hands clean for now. He's still in college, NYU, but he is known to be vicious and eager to prove himself as well as to avenge his father. Approval by his grandfather, whom he worships, means everything to him."

"Which part of business was given to him?"

"Drugs."

This wasn't much, but at least Jack knew where that family was (nowhere near him at the moment) and their general characters (both were scums, obviously).

"May I ask to what this questions tend? Do you think we disrupted their operations?" Milton asked, breaking Jack's concentration.

He looked over his friends, for the umpteenth time glad to have known them since middle school. But this... This was beyond serious and he had to be careful.

"Heard their name thrown around at the matches," he shrugged nonchalant. "Thought I knew all the big names sponsors here."

Jerry got up and walked over to him, "Well, big name or no, they aren't here now. And we need to worry about the here and the now." Milton cringed and opened his mouth, but Jerry plowed on, "Jack was ambushed and if it wasn't for that angel-, no, _bambola,*"_ here he gave Jack a wink, "he wouldda died."

"Jerry, I wouldn't have died," Jack snapped. He didn't know he called her 'bambola' when he was delirious, but Jerry remembered. "The cut was deep, but not fatal."

"Sure, sure, and blood loss is no bid deal. We need to know who did it," Jerry was serious for once and Jack agreed.

"Really, there are only two reasons to attack me-"

"Only two? I could think of at least ten," Jerry mumbled and then quickly added at Jack's impatient snap of fingers, "Jack, seriously. All the girls you fuck and dump? Any one of them could be itching for a pay back. Or their boyfriends..."

Jack rolled his eyes and flicked off his friend.

"No, I think we can safely exclude the scorned women and cuckold men as the attackers," Milton said pensively. "This was very coordinated. They knew to come with more than three men. They ambushed Jack when he was alone. Managed to incapacitate him quickly, before he could square off against them, and then used knives... It's a bit much for jealous or spurned lovers. This is almost professional."

He was right, though, "Like I said, it could only be because of the upcoming matches or because of... well, you know."

"It can't be that, Jack! I am very careful and never leave trails! And I know you two are also pretty careful. No, I don't think it's because of our business," Milton said adamantly.

"So that leaves the upcoming matches. Who am I supposed to face against next?"

"Well, unconfirmed yet, but I think it maybe one of Ty's guys. Supposedlly, Ty scored a new sponsor and has a new fighter."

"All right, let's keep our ears to the ground when the time for the match comes. They'd be betting against me. Milton?"

"Of course, I can track it. But are you sure you want to fight still? You have been beaten up quite badly-"

"One on one? I'd take my chances. Really, the fact that they went to this length to make me lose, tells me their guy is probably not that great," Jack smirked and Jerry laughed at that. Milton also relaxed and they spent the next couple of hours just hanging out, seemingly with no care in the world.

But Jack kept thinking about that attack. So many things about it stood out to him. Like Milton said, it was coordinated and professional. He didn't tell this to his friends, but his attackers were armed with more than just knives, but decided not to use guns to make the assault look like a possible street violence between teens. That girl and her flat tire were truly a godsend, because he was left there to bleed to death.

And that was the kicker: they wanted him dead, not merely injured. This definitely eliminated the rival fighters and people betting on fights, unless the plan was to weaken him now and to go for the kill in the ring. It'd be a less suspicious way. At any rate, this was something he had to protect his friends and brothers from.

 _And bambola..._

* * *

But it really was easier said than done. Jerry scared her off - understandable given the situation - and Milton tracked her down from the security camera feed and license plate. So Jack already knew her name. Kimberly Beulah Crawford. Cute and normal name. She was a cute and normal girl. She had parents, school, piano, friends. Didn't do any drugs or even smoked. All very normal. Commonplace. Average. Safe...

And yet...

He would remember vividly the disjoined snippets of that evening and there was nothing average about her then.

The pain of the last stab that slid so close to his heart... _Move, drago, move_... He twitched just a little and the blade moved along the rib, not between them... He was hurt all over, but his training taught him to keep awareness of his surroundings on the forefront and he pushed his own pain down... They planned to dump him out of the car on the side of the state route...

 _It's dark, no one'd notice him, he'd bleed out by morning..._

He concentrated when the car door opened and he was shoved out... Tuck and roll... Pain... Pain... No keep your eyes open... Road... Cars... Too hurt to move... Keep your eyes open... The ground is cold... I am so cold... Wanna be warm again... Feel fuzzy... Been here so long... Did they hurt as much? ... It was a dark at home too... Were they also cold? ... Keep your eyes open, drago... Be ready to move... Someone's coming... Came back to finish the job? ... Move, strike... Can't get up... Can't move... Then hit the face... Grab the throat...

 _...Softest skin... Slender neck..._

She is beautiful... Like a doll... _La bambola_... Is she here to end me? ... Too bad I haven't met her before... Wouldn't have missed her...

Hospital? ... No... No police, no hospital...

Cold. Hurt. Hands... _Soft... Warm... So warm..._ Voice (buddy, buddy). Clear and low... _Easy to listen to..._ More hands. Touch... _Gentle..._ Sting. Medicine. Scent... _Roses..._ No... Peonies... What the fuck? Peonies?. She's close. Hair... _Blonde, like melted gold..._ Scent. Soft touches. Pain. Car. Hate back seats of cars. Jerry. Milton. _Safe..._ Thank god... No...

 _...Thank bambola_...

* * *

He woke up after the longest sleep almost a day later to find his friends hovering over him, fresh scar on his left side. Grant was there to help with wounds, his eyes full of questions that didn't leave his mouth. Jack recovered quickly and they filled him in. He was ambushed on the way out of the gym. He was found on Rt. 101. By one Kim Crawford, who tended to his wounds and brought him here.

He looked at her pictures and read the file, but what he saw was the memory of her from that night. Delicate face in a halo of golden hair, dark eyes shadowed by fear and lit by determination, pink lips bitten in anxiety, and that voice _(please, don't die)..._

He didn't die, felt like he couldn't disappoint her.

He could not tell which part of his image of her was memory or delirious dream. Was she really that pretty? Was she really that warm? Gentle? Determined to help? Did she really care?

He resisted as long as he could, feeling like he already was too curious, but maybe it was necessary. Scratch the itch, remove the mystery. See her in daylight and confirm to himself that she wasn't his nocturnal muse and savior, but simply a girl.

First time he saw her at her house late night. She was in her room, having come back from movies. She was startlingly beautiful standing there with the soft lights dancing off her loose wavy hair, reflecting in the remarkable dark eyes and a warm smile. He couldn't hear her voice, but she was either talking to someone unseen (but it was too late for company) or singing. He was shocked by how warm, peaceful, beautiful she looked. In the dark of the night, having just finished another brutal training session and facing the promise of violence in the upcoming match, he was stunned by the contrast between them.

No, this girl was from another life. He better stay away.

But like any vice, the curiosity and desire to see her sometimes overwhelmed him. He came back and watched her, for moments at a time, unseen, strange hunger nagging at him.

He listened to her play. She was incredible. He was grateful for all the times mom dragged him to concerts, because he could tell just how good she was. He also lost himself couple of times in half-dream, half-memory where he remembered mom and dreamed of seeing Kim play in the open.

He bedded several more girls, but found them to be dull and just wrong, with calculating eyes just like his. He went to sleep and woke up to the thought of that lovely golden hair and those scarves, and especially delicate hands that screamed 'musician.' He vividly remembered the feeling of warmth when she tended to him that night.

He denied himself...and wanted more and more until the thoughts start to bleed into his life, all-consuming.

He didn't know how long it'd go on like this, but fate intervened, saving him from his self-imposed torment.

*La bambola (Italian) - the doll.

A/N: I got the idea for the story while listening to the Italian singer Patti Pravo's signature song _La Bambola_. it's from the 60-s. It was later covered by a contemporary singer Giusy Ferreri. I wanted to call it _Il Drago i La Bambola_ , but reconsidered.

One again, I am worried that Jack is not entirely believable. But, consider that in the show he and Milton were spies at some point. And Jerry was working as a collection boy for some racketeering guy. So, while this set up is a bit out there, it's not completely unbelievable.


	4. Chapter 4

Kim's life in general went back to normal. First week after the roadside rescue, she was jumpy expecting the members of the J-gang to be after her. But there were no more sightings of either guy and she relaxed.

Except the moment she stopped looking for them, she starting feeling like someone was watching her. She couldn't shake off the feeling, but ultimately written it off as paranoia.

She was a Senior in Seaford High, overall a good student, a cheerleader, and a serious piano player. In fact, that was her career plan. She aimed for San Francisco Conservatory for Music. Well, she dreamed of it and in her less secure moments she felt like she was just a suburban kid, who played piano. In her better moods, she felt like she deserved a spot there because she was playing on the competition level and could reasonably be a concert musician.

So her life was full of school, homework, studio lessons with her tutor and practices, practices and practices.

She didn't mind, although her dad insisted that she have some 'normal' high school activities. She was well-liked and she was a cheerleader, but her passion for classical music set her apart a little from other kids. She had a good friend in Grace, who was a fellow cheerleader and used to play piano too. She stopped after she broke her hand badly and her love for music morphed into a love of performance and dance.

It was because of Grace that Kim was at the party. It was some combination of sports teams and cheerleaders, plus anyone who scored an invitation. All in all, it wasn't a bad party, but smoke hung like a cloud and Kim was beginning to feel that familair shortness of breath. Asthma was easily triggered by smoke and Kim stood near windows just in case. It wasn't just smoke, Kim swore she could smell alcohol in the punch and brownies looked suspicious. Consequently, people were getting way more comfortable and the whole of the party went up a notch. She saw couples disappear on regular basis to the basement and upstairs bedrooms and steered clear of any semi-private nooks. And people at the party were enjoying themselves, she felt like she had to get out of here. Kim felt like someone was watching her and she tried to mingle and discern, who was looking at her but couldn't locate it. That creeped her out.

Grace, who was in the middle of the group of jocks and gymnasts, looked a little too flushed and Kim surreptitiously pulled her aside.

"I am gonna head out. You OK here? Wanna come with me?"

"Imma purrrrfect, Kimmy. Sur' you don' wanna stay?" Grace slurred and laughed. Kim caught sight of Kelsey, another cheerleader who was a year younger.

"I'm fine. Kels, make sure she gets home, all right?"

Kelsey nodded, "I'm the DD."

It was the system that the cheerleader developed. In parties like this, girls from the squad had at least one designated driver and/or chaperon to prevent anyone from doing something truly stupid. It helped to avoid some minor and major disasters and the rule was enforced with an iron fist.

Kim nodded back to Kelsey and kissed Grace, who was in a touchy-feely state.

The hair on the back of her neck was still on alert like small antennas sending her strong creepy signals.

Nodding to herself, she made her way in her short fuschia dress along the edge of the house, inching towards the door, and at last, she was outside. Breathing in the cool, fresh night air heavily, she clutched her purse in her hand and started walking towards home, which was only a few blocks away. She felt content now, her antennas resting.

The night was not creepy anymore, despite that she was walking on a secluded road late at night, the houses asleep, hardly a vehicle or two passing by.

She couldn't explain what exactly unsettled her at the party. There was no rhyme or rhythm, but the feeling would creep up at random moments. And tonight at the party, the feeling was amplified. She didn't know everyone there. Supposedly there were kids from other schools, but when she had felt at least three people constantly watching her. And not the hey-I-think-you're-cute-we-should-talk stares but I'd-like-to-do-nameless-stuff-with-you stare. She shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself and walking one more block to home, in the middle of the night, on small heels.

Humming happily to herself, she walked on the sidewalk, the moon a happy crescent in the sky, street lights lining the empty streets. Pondering over whether to change her practice piece from Stravinsky to Brahms. Despite the technical difficulty of the Stravinsky's _Capriccio for Piano and Orchestra_ , Brahms was equally difficult for the artistic and lyrical qualities that his music demanded.

She was so lost in thoughts that the ringing of her phone suddenly made her jump, an embarrassing yelp escaping her before her heart calmed down and she picked up the call.

"Where'd go you?" Grace's slurred voice and jumbled words reached her.

She sighed, pinching her nose, "Home. Gracie, is Kelsey near you?"

She started walking again, trying to shake the feeling of being watched that creeped up again, calming herself down.

"Yeah, she's herrre. Kels, say hi to Kimmy. Kimmy," Grace slurred. "I saw Randy run afterrrr you."

Randy was on football team and sometimes was a painfully stupid guy. She didn't know how to make him see that she was not interested. It was mostly harmless, though. Shaking her head, she spoke, "Grace, get back home safe. I'll see you tomorrow."

She hung up on her giggling and completely buzzed brunette friend and continued walking. Biting back a smile, she turned a corner to the house next to hers and bumped into a man, his hands coming up to hold her straight. Randy.

She sighed and took a step back. "What are you doing here, Randy?"

He smiled, his good looking face lighting up, but her skin crawled a little and she took another step back.

"I saw you leave so I thought I'd walk you home," he said, shrugging. He was taller than her and well muscled and not subtle at all. But since he was a neighbor, she pasted a smile on her face and walked around him, towards her house, cutting across the lawn to the garage.

"Well, as you can see I am already here," she said, speeding up, feeling him following her, "there's no need. You can go home."

She was almost at her garage when his hand shot out and grabbed her, whirling her around. She looked up in surprise at his shadowed eyes, a sliver of anxiety seeping her.

"I need to talk to you, Kim," he said, and she could smell the alcohol on his breath now and his eyes were blood shot. This was bad news.

Calling for calm, she replied coolly, pulling back her hand. "We can talk tomorrow. You can go now!"

"No," he gripped her hand tighter, his fingers hurting her now, and she closed her eyes, anger burning through her, and stomped on his foot.

His hands dropped and he hissed, "You crazy bitch!"

Taking her chance, she turned and made to dash to the end of the wall when he grabbed her again, his left hand pulling her back flush against his chest. She was about to scream her throat out, waking the entire neighborhood, when the weight suddenly disappeared from behind her. She whirled around, teetering on her heels, her heart pounding to find Randy unconscious on the ground and a tall man standing over him, his eyes on her shaking body.

It was the injured stranger! J-man! Only he didn't look quite so injured any more. There was no blood on him and his bruises were gone. What was he doing here?

Chest heaving, she looked at him in disbelief, not knowing whether to thank him or to be mad for making Randy crumple to the ground, so she stayed silent, eyes locked on his. Who the hell was he? How was he here? Why was he here?

Now that he was in the street light, she could see that he was fairly young and still looked very fit. Dark grey shirt and dark jeans, with a black hoody completed his outfit. Even his boots were dark. Once her perusal was complete, she looked back up at him, zeroing in on his hooded eyes.

He was attractive. Like someone you wouldn't forget meeting.

Biting her lip unconsciously, she saw his eyes flicker momentarily to the movement before coming back up to her eyes.

 _Oh god_ , she lurched back a little as J-man lifted his hand as if to touch her arm. The abortive movement ended with his fingers moving, but not quite touching, alongside the arm that Randy grabbed not too gently.

Kim was watching, mesmerized. Her arm felt like it suddenly had twice as many nerve endings and each was buzzing with anticipation. Distantly she saw the knuckles reddened and wondered if he got it from knocking out Randy.

The contact never came and she was not sure if she was relieved or disappointed.

"Thank you," she whispered quietly. "For now. And, you know..." she trailed off, unsure what to say. His face was a little shadowed and she lifted her arm to his chest, indicating where she last saw an ugly cut on the warm skin. "How are you? You kinda scared me that night. All that blood... Obviously you're better... But you knuckles- You should ice them- I mean, I don't have anything on me. Just a Band-Aid," she trailed off, because she would have offered to fetch some ice for this guy's hand if she didn't.

He did not speak or acknowledge in any way that he heard her, just stared at her with laser focus that should have been disturbing but for some reason it wasn't.

Their eyes remained locked for minutes, long silent minutes, completely blank with no questions and no answers, just being, while the douche bag of a football player remained on the ground.

And then the guy took a step forward, closing the distance between them and her breath hitched, as she tilted her head back to look at him. Despite of her heels, she just reached his shoulder and she didn't know why that made her heart flutter. His hand raised, his eyes still intense, as he brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers, very slowly, like he could actually feel her flushed skin. His fingers traced her cheeks and her jaw, tentatively touching the line of her lips and her eyes fluttered shut of their own accord. She could smell him, something woodsy, a hint of smoke, clean and all natural.

"Tu sei reale,"* he whispered. Quickly, he recovered and took a step back. When he spoke, it was in a stronger, much harder, voice that made her stand straighter. "I am better... Thank you."

"I didn't say anything to anyone..." Kim felt a little wary of the man, now that his intense eyes were coupled with the hard look and harder voice.

"I know," he said casually and Kim wondered again how could he be so sure. "It's not about that..." his lips quirked in annoyance. "I shouldn't be here but- I wanted to thank you..." this time his lips were lifted at the corners in a hint of a smile, making him so attractive, it was like sun beamed on his face.

"I thought the new tire and the medical supplies box was a 'thank you,'" she replied with a smile of her own.

"That- No, that was the guys."

"J-crew?" she blurted out only to see his brows rise in question. He looked so much more intimidating when he wasn't half-unconscious. "J-man, J-dog, J-crew..." Kim's voice trailed off realizing that she might be insulting someone, who was obviously on familiar terms with violence.

His lips quirked at that in a definite smirk, "They'd laugh their asses off if they heard that."

"Then don't tell them. I don't want them be mad at me."

He expression turned stern, but somehow Kim knew it wasn't for her, "They won't dare to be mad at you."

She almost felt light-headed at that statement. It sounded like-

"How- How did you find me?" it was a stupid question, but Kim was still unsure what could she talk to this guy about.

"You really don't want to know. The less you know-"

"The safer I'll be?"

"Yes. And I want you to be safe." Once again she didn't know what to say. He looked down at Randy, nudging him with one foot. "Does this sort of thing happen often?"

"What? Drunk or high guys too slow to understand 'no'? Sometimes..." she trailed as she saw him look over her as if he'd see physical evidence of that. "I'm fine, really."

"It didn't look like that."

"But I was," she waived her pepper spray in one hand. "Even without you stepping in," she said it to lighten up the mood, but she saw his expression close off and his eyes grew distant.

"You're right. You don't need me..."

She looked down to distract herself from those dark intense eyes, "That's-" she began to speak, but when she looked up he was gone "-not what I was saying..."

Blinking and looking around, she saw nothing but sleeping houses and empty streets around her. In a daze, leaving Randy on the ground, she went inside her house.

In her bedroom, slipping her heels off, her aching feet thanking her, and went to the window to close the curtains. And suddenly she stopped. The hair on the back of her neck rose, her antenna telling her she was being watched but she couldn't see a thing outside except trees and shadows.

She knew it was him. He was a part of the shadows. She knew it was him with a certainty she did not understand.

But what she did not understand even more was why she did not mind his gaze on her when she generally could not stand it. Must be those eyes. Dark, intense eyes.

He was watching her and it disturbed her that she was not disturbed.

With a sigh, she closed the curtains, shutting his view.

 _And she didn't even know his name..._

* * *

Jack cursed his own weakness. Meeting her in person, when he wasn't half-unconscious, was dangerous. He watched her at the party (some known low level dealers were there, high schoolers themselves, did she know that half the team used?), saw the jerk follow her and, naturally, so did he. When the jerk tried to grab her, Jack couldn't stay away. Compelled by the desire to be close to her, to protect this beautiful girl from all trouble, Jack quickly pulled the jerk off and with one well-placed hit, the douchebag was down and unmoving.

And then he talked to - and touched - her. She was so much prettier this close up. She was still gorgeous like a doll, but she was alive, and vibrant, her voice - music, and her skin - warm silk. And she cared. At least about his injuries.

It was dangerous and stupid. For the first time, the cloak of numbness and anger weren't there, leaving only warmth and wonder behind.

He ran after she fell asleep and went home in a state of unease. Everything felt too bright, tasted too much, felt too intense. He wanted numbness back. It was safe, familiar, productive. It made him stronger.

He generally didn't drink beyond occasional scotch. Beer was too caloric for the buzz it gave and him staying in fighting shape meant no empty calories. He didn't shoot up either, preferring to keep a clear mind and not fuck around with mood alterants, given his own propensity for violence. But that night he made an exception. He needed the numbness back.

That was hours and a half bottle of scotch ago. He'd snuck into his room above the garage (his choice as it was farthest from other bedrooms) and buried himself in drinks until Kim and her face seemed like a distant dream. He would figure it out, he kept telling himself. He was Jack Brewer. And then he'd remember he didn't want to be Jack Brewer when with her. So he'd take another drink.

He'd passed out sometime after three and it seemed like he'd fallen straight into the dream. This was a new nightmare. He usually was his 9-year old self, who failed to protect mom. Instead, he was himself—and he was fighting the attackers. But he was angry, god he was so angry. He could remember how the rage felt—he could still feel the way nothing else mattered except making people stop. He hit, and punched, and stabbed.

And then She was there. Stepped out of the hall, pristine and pretty... she looked at him, looked at the carnage around him, blood on his hands, and she screamed. Horror was etched on her face and he stepped up to talk to her, to make her understand. If only she'd listen, instead she looked at him as if he was a monster...

She slapped him and he'd woken up just as he swung back.

He was covered in sweat, his real body as full of the adrenaline he'd been pumped full of in the dream. The rage was a memory, but it felt close—so much closer than he could deal with. He'd been too angry and too close to Kim.

He'd spent the rest of the night throwing up and swore to stay away from her.

He just had one little bit of business to finish.

And then he needed to get her out of his head.

* * *

The next day she had an avalanche of calls from all her squad mates and Randy. Girls wanted to swap gossip and tales of their time at the party and Randy wanted to apologize. She ended up promising not to mention his behavior at school and he promised to stay away from her. Randy sounded contrite enough that Kim decided to be magnanimous. He was so apologetic, worried not only about consequences to him at school, but also by the fact that she knocked him out cold. She didn't mention that she had nothing to do with that and Randy ended conversation with a praise to her self-defense skills.

She smiled to herself. If only she had any such skills. Her dad taught her to kick in groin, instep, throat and shins, but he also told her that prudence was better part of valor. So, she had a pepper spray and generally avoided being in situations where she had to use her meager self-defense skills.

She remembered the last night and the feeling of being watched even when she was going to sleep. She wondered if it was because the guy stepped in to help that she didn't feel disturbed, knowing that he was out there yesterday. Her heart thumped a little harder, knowing that that man was out there in the world, familiar with her name, and address and her schedule. It was ... strange. Exciting a little. Maybe even flattering. But she figured he was grateful to her for that one act of kindness and now they were even.

She had another practice that Sunday and spent the day with her tutor. He was pleased with how 'emotive' her Stravinksy piece was and praised her passion and force. She suspected that the excitement of the late last night must have colored her emotions and allowed her fear and anxiety to come through music. Tired, but pleasantly so, she went to bed only briefly recalling the man in the dark, who watched over her.

The next day, at school, she was accosted by Grace immediately upon arrival, "Kim! What the hell?"

"What?" Kim actually looked down at herself, wondering if she had missed something.

"What did you do to Randy?" Grace's eyes were comically wide, even as she was pulling Kim along into school.

"I- Nothing," Kim mumbled and her gut tightened in apprehension. What happened?

"You sure? 'Cause he supposedly looks pretty black and blue and limping. Safe to say he'd have to sit out a game or few."

Kim actually stopped in her tracks, "Limping?" She jammed her heeled foot on his instep, but she didn't think it was so bad. Wasn't he still standing and he even talked to her yesterday and didn't mention anything...

"Yeah. Come on, let's find girls and someone from the team. Maybe they'll know more."

When did find the squad-mates the rumor mill was in full swing: Randy was practically disabled for life based on the people's talk. They had to disband as the classes started, but the news kept growing. By the time lunch arrived, Kim entered the lunch room with apprehension. Randy wasn't there, but Brett - their quarterback - was holding the court. According to him, Randy went out yesterday to 'hang out' with some other teammates. By the way the word 'hang-out' was said, it was clear that they were probably getting high. So, Brett wasn't entirely clear what happened, but somehow Randy got high, left the house he was in and got jumped on the way. No one saw anything and Randy wasn't entirely reliable, but the beat down he got was serious. In addition to the injured foot, his wrist was broken and he was taking a lie-in for a few days.

"-and get this. They really made sure that not only his wrist was broken, but so were his fingers!" Brett paused for dramatic effect and Kim actually felt unease grow inside her. "Every single finger of his left hand was broken. Every. Single. One."

"Good thing it was his left, and not his right," Brody said and others nodded along, but Kim felt nauseous.

 _Randy grabbed her with a left hand hard enough to bruise her arm._

 _It was a coincidence, right? Right?!_

*Tu sei reale (Italian) - you are real.

A/N: So, they met. He reacts. Maybe overreacts. Are we still onboard with this Jack and his tendency to use violence?


	5. Chapter 5

After the dream Jack resolved to stay away, because numbness and anger were better than curiosity and warmth. Curiosity needed to be sated and warmth... It would make a guy weak... It could be taken away...

He'd rather not know what that was like at all, than to experience and inevitably lose it. He suspected it'd be far worse.

He kept to that plan admirably. At first. With a few slip-ups, like driving by the strip mall where her music class was, which gave him mixed results. He got to see her from a distance - still radiant and entirely too peaceful - but also let him see that she had an admirer. A jock, it seemed, who followed her from the studio and chatted all the way to her car. She seemed uncomfortable. At least to Jack. He followed the guy and had Milton track him. Brett Deshler. Now Jack knew this was a quarterback of Seaford Whales. He was also one of the customers of the known dealer. Nothing hard though. Jack remembered seeing that name on the phone of that dealer guy.

So, she had a potential boyfriend. Good for her. It was very normal for her to have a boyfriend. Jack should just forget about her.

But like the Murphy's law, Kim and reminders of her were everywhere. The classical music he heard at school; the cot in the Manny's shop; any girl with long blonde hair; even cheerleaders at his school, because he knew that she was in a cheer squad. In the meantime, he was even more stoic and his training for the next match intensified.

He broke his own rule and checked on her again. She was leaving her tutor's studio and talking on the phone. It was just some chatter with a girl named Grace (Collins, cheerleader, friend). Grace was obviously dragging Kim to some party. He only heard Kim's side of conversation, but he filled in the blanks easily. She was going to a party after a game, but she'd be the designated driver. Which was normal, considering the age and circumstances. She was normal and had a normal life. He scowled at himself: he promised himself that he wouldn't seek her out and he would stand by his word. Every time he felt himself slipping he had the same dream and he remembered. Kim was from a different life.

Their extracurricular activities didn't distract him enough. Jack had occasionally used his own methods of collecting information without Milton's knack for getting into servers. Jack's tactics were old-fashioned, but worked well enough. It was also an opportunity to let some of the tension out. He no longer worried about the violence he visited upon these men. They chose the path in life that would surely lead to either early death of prison. He was merely part of the landscape of their lives.

So he increased his workouts and tried to aggressively track any crumb of information about his own attack. Grant was cautious with easing him back to the full intensity schedule, bit Jack simply attacked his trainer to prove that he certainly could take it. He tired his body out, but couldn't exactly turn off his mind. So, when exhausting himself failed, he went to the club fully intending to forget.

Barely twenty minutes and one glass of scotch later, he was pressing an eager girl with long dark hair and perky chest into the wall of a bathroom stall. She was enthusiastic and her hand was on his dick almost non-stop since the bar. And, yes, it _was_ what he needed. He focused on the hand and explored all the willing flesh. She was tall enough that he hardly had to bend to fuse himself to her. She moved to kiss, but she tasted of vodka and instead he pressed a kiss hard against the side of her neck, teeth scraping the tendons and shoulder, making her gasp. She moved hands all over him, greedy and uncoordinated, but humming approvingly as she did so.

Her hands were cool from holding iced drink, unlike _warm small hands..._

He growled in frustration and moved both hands down to lift the already short dress up to find her panties, minuscule and flimsy, already wet. Quick tug and they ripped right off. She squealed and the sound was jarring, so he put one finger on her lips to silence her. She wrapped her lips around it and slowly sucked and it should have been sexy, but all he felt was vague revulsion.

Her mouth was painted liberally deep red, reminding him of _soft pink lips bitten in anxiety..._

He cursed out loud and she smirked mistaking his reaction and Jack had had enough. He turned her around, kicked her feet apart and stepped between them. She got the message and braced herself on the wall. It was a quick work of zipper and condom and he finally slid in. She cursed too, but Jack didn't want to hear her or his mind would treacherously remind him of all the ways this girl wasn't like Bamb...

One hand went around her waist, digging into the flesh, and another covered her mouth. From there on it was pure fucking. He rutted into pliable flesh, the need to forget combined with the physical need of completion. He didn't hold back, driving hard and deep, his hips moving the girl into the wall. With every stroke he pulled her closer with a hand on the waist, the motion making her bend a little more. She quivered a little, her whimpers turning into moans and he freed her mouth to brace both hands on her waist. More balanced now, he didn't waste time and all that coiled power and muscle was moving, focused, from the hips, thrusting in and up. Again and again and again. Her chest was pressed into the wall, moving every time he thrust and it ought to have been uncomfortable, but she was babbling her pleasure incoherently. _Too much of the wrong voice_ and he simply bit her neck in irritation, burying himself as deep as he could and it did it her her, because she cried out and clenched around him.

He fucked her right through the orgasm and finally let go, when his closed eyes hid the dark mane to give way to the golden hair and amber eyes.

 _Fuck it all to hell._

Later that week, after he tried to forget with several more girls, Jerry caught his attention when he mentioned a game that Swarthmore was playing against Seaford High and Jack almost swore under his breath. Of course, this was the game Kim was talking about.

"Is there a party afterwards?" he didn't even realize he spoke until the word were out there, causing his friend to look at him.

"Are you interested? Cause it's supposed to be combined with Seaford High folks."

Jack shrugged, but he already knew he'd be there. So he bargained with himself... He'd be there, but he'd stay out of her way. He'd only observe. To make sure she was fine. That's all. It was better to never start anything and let her find love with someone she deserved. She would find a guy that could love her, and Jack would make sure that she was safe.

* * *

At first, Kim expected J-man to show up again randomly and she prepared to grill him about Randy. Her guilt and shock were great and she even talked to Randy about his attack. He could only tell that it was some guy in a hoodie, but in general he avoided talking abut it. It was Brett, who enlightened Kim: Randy probably owed money and someone came to collect. Part of her desperately wanted to believe that Randy's attack had nothing to do with her and it was only her own imagination that leapt to such conjectures. Another part of her remembered the gentle touch and those words in foreign language and she was pretty sure that she was the reason for Randy's broken hand.

Whatever her musings were, J-man didn't show up again and she certainly wasn't going to go looking for him. After another week of looking behind her shoulder, she relaxed thinking that she probably wouldn't have to worry about her violent guard anymore.

Kim was walking along the sidelines as the Swarthmore team pummeled the Seaford Whales. The game was taking place in Swarthmore and the squad was doing its level best to cheer their team. Brett, before the game began, had made his interest in her quite well-known. In fact, he was so good that Donna got the message and somehow took an umbrage to that. She managed to spill her water bottle on Kim and now it had to be changed. So, Kim was walking and fuming, irritation making her focus internally on the idiot jocks and equally idiotic jealous girls. She was so distracted, she didn't even realize what had happened. Only that she was upright at one moment and the next - she was lying on her back with something very big and very sweaty lying on top of her. Her eyes had dark spots dancing behind the closed lids and one arm was trapped uncomfortably underneath her.

The sweaty heavy thing was not moving and Kim was becoming alarmed.

 _One, Two, Three, Four… Seriously, get up…Five, Six, Seven…_

And then the weight was gone only to be replaced by yelling, shuffling and… crunching? _Were there chips crunching? Was someone watching this with chips?_

Kim tried to shake her head at her random thoughts, but realized that it made everything spin. Her lungs burned as they fought for the air that had been knocked out of her. She was roughly lifted off the floor and placed on the closest stretch of the bench seating available. Her eyes began to painfully readjust as the dots got smaller and she was vaguely aware of Grace and Brett being somewhere nearby.

When she looked down she was confronted with dirt and grass smeared all over her singlet. Lots of it. But she was mostly concerned with her hand. She gingerly moved it this way and that, happy when she felt no sharp pain. No breaks and no sprains, which was an awesome news. Because, no kidding, if she did break or sprain it, her mom and tutor would go ballistic. Kim, still vaguely registering the thudding, crunching noises and some colorful swearing, prodded her wrist with another hand. Ouch, that smarted. So, maybe some deep bruising-

Suddenly someone was cupping her face in their hands and tilted her head up. Oh... J-dog... _J-dog_? What was he doing here? He said something and she blinked to refocus herself from taking the inventory of her body to listen to him.

But it was really hard to, because as soon as she decided to focus outward, the noises and yelling grew louder and louder and she winced from the sheer cacophony of it.

"Hey, hey, Bambola, Doll, look at me."

She saw a shock of glossy brown hair from behind J-dogs shoulder. Prickling of recognition made her lean over a fraction only to have J-dog re-steady her. It still wasn't fast enough for her to miss J-man pummeling some guy. In fact, it was a Seaford football player. What did she miss here? Noises were starting to bleed into her brain and that's the exact moment she realized she wanted the silence to stay because it was so loud in here.

She shook her head carefully at J-dog and pushed with her good hand at his shoulder. He seemed confused and then turned and motioned to someone. Grace's face popped up next to his.

"Kimmy," she spoke gently and Kim only understood what she said by the movement of the lips. The sound of fighting was still going on strong and she pushed again an J-dog's shoulder.

He rocked back on his heels and then she saw something that was startling. Brett was yanking on J-man's shoulders (to no avail) as he punched Jim, their line-backer, in the stomach repeatedly. Jim's head was leaning on J-man's shoulder and lolling around. He looked unconscious…drunk possibly. She watched for what could have been hours because it was strangely mesmerizing, like an accident. J-man looked feral. Every muscle was stretched taunt and he seemed dazed himself. The precision of his punches and the focus of his hits were impressive. If Kim didn't feel so damn bad about Jim getting the snot beat out of him, she would probably recognize the superior warrior. The muscles in J-man's back, visible even under this shirt, were twitching tightly with every pull and push of his fist. She could see his thighs straining as he leaned his weight forward. His hair was falling into his eyes but that didn't seem to deter him from knowing exactly where to throw the most effective hooks. With the pain in hand numbly reminding her of her fall, pieces of what just happened began to fall into place.

Jim was the sweaty heavy weight.

The yelling was J-man.

Crunching - Jim's body being punished.

Jim made a pained _ooof_ sound and Kim finally snapped into the present...

"J-dog, stop him," she could barely force the words out of the parched mouth but she knew he heard her. He nodded his head after a second and leaped up with what she considered rather good agility and propelled himself at J-dog's back. Between him and Brett, they managed to get his friend off.

But like bad movie, it got worse. Seaford team saw their teammates attacked and suddenly there was a huge pile of players from both teams trying to hit one another. The noise level grew even more thunderous as the crowd joined in shouting and banging and the referees used their whistles. J-crew were in the middle of it - Kim saw that glossy hair and lithe body move with dangerous elegance - and Kim was both fascinated and fearful of the sheer strength and violence J-man was capable. Voice that was lost at the sight of this fight finally made its way out if her mouth.

"Stop," she said and it was lost in the general noise.

Or so she thought.

J-man's head whipped towards her and he held her gaze for a moment. She wasn't sure what he saw, but his eyes narrowed and then a small quirk moved the left corner of his mouth. He looked like he was memorizing everything, intense and serious, and Kim sat straighter at being in the center of his attention. She saw coaches approach behind him and for a briefest seconds her eyes darted that way. It was enough to break the spell. He pivoted and ducked under flying arms and legs, avoiding contact like he was a dancer. He grabbed J-dog by the shoulder and they slunk off the field just in time for the coaches and teachers to descend on the warring students.

 _"_ Excuse me, but what the fuck? _Who_ the hell was that? _What_ the hell was that?" Grace breathed near Kim's ear. "Do you know him?"

"I... No, I don't," Kim lied, but only a little. She really didn't know him.

"Uh-huh... Well, he certainly thinks you do. I suggest you decide now whether you know him. Or _want_ to know him. Cause I don't think that guy would let go that easily."

The whole thing was a disaster afterwards. Already Seaford High and Swarthmore had a feud that they took to competitions and tournaments, scholastic and extra curricular events, including beauty pageants. But this was probably the first time that the feud became an actual brawl, with bruises, blood, cuts, and black eyes.

And Kim knew that she somehow caused it.

The game was scrapped and the Whales would have been relieved, as they were losing badly before the brawl, but they hardly had time. Their coaches tried to determine who started it, but beyond a vague notion that 'some crazy dude in dark clothes,' who attacked Jim, no one saw anything more. Kim suspected that some Swarthmore students knew, but they wouldn't say. Still, she knew who it was.

* * *

Jack slunk on the edges of the crowds, the large swarm of people making him edgy. Antsy was how he'd describe himself.

He knew he probably should be in the gym now, sweating under Grant's watchful eye. But Jack wanted something more engaging than just going through punching and kicking. He wanted to spar to let out the energy. Instead Grant kept to the typical conditioning stuff. Sit-ups then practice jabs, push-ups then practice hooks, lunges then practice kicks, and chin-ups then blocking drills. It was almost meditative to Jack; the steady beat of the exercise. His body ended up relaxing into the motion.

Unfortunately that left his mind free to wander where it would. And wander it did – straight to the girl who'd been haunting him for weeks now.

Which was how he found himself at the game.

When the Seaford team appeared, all Jack's pretenses were forfeited. He zeroed in on cheerleaders and within seconds found Kim. He now wished he hadn't. Even in the sea of similarly dressed girls, she stood out to him. Jerry, who tagged along with him, whistled low.

"Damn, Seaford girls are hot. Check out that girl next to Bambola."

It was Jerry's new thing to call Kim 'Bambola' or 'Doll.' He had enjoyed what he termed 'Jack's woobie' for all it was worth, especially because it made Jack grouchy.

They moved closer to the field and Jack kept his eyes on Kim the whole time. The quarterback of the Seaford Whales was still very much into Kim and it was annoying, which was why it was do satisfying to see him sacked repeatedly. Jack watched yet another pile-on the field with Brett in the middle that he didn't notice the linebacker backing toward Kim while trying yo shake off another player. They teetered close to the sideline, but suddenly Jack saw commotion. He whipped his head that way and saw, in a horrified stupor as the big guy's elbow came back and connected with the side of Kim's face and his legs were abruptly moving the rest of his body towards them. He watched in morbid terror as the guy lost his footing, fell back and landed on her. She was so small, lying prone under the asshole with poor coordination. He was only on her for a few seconds before Jack yanked him up by his jersey.

One glance over his shoulder at her still body on the sidelines and he was detached. He braced his forearm around the fucker's throat and just let go. He could feel his knuckles cutting against his ribs; somehow knowing to go to the sides to bypass the breastplate, the rough stinging as sweat mingled with blood and the jerk's abrasive material of the jersey rubbed against them. His legs were straining to rise up and knee the bastard. He felt a strange resistance on his neck and shoulders. This was not tolerable. He knew outside of his head that he was calling the guy every name in the book he could think of just to get his point across. Nonsensical sentiments of how he was going to beat the shit out of the guy while his fist made good on those promises. He shuttered beneath Jack and the blood weakly spit from his mouth, sprinkling Jack's shoulder.

Then the resistance was tripled and he was aware of Jerry's usually sunny face, glaring at him in concern. Before Jack could process what he had done, Jerry was attacked and suddenly it was a massive brawl involving all the players from both teams. Jack kind of reveled in it. The energy, the adrenaline, the sheer need to release violence in him, all melted into one exhilarating rush.

He was in the middle of a fight when he heard her voice, which he recognized even in the noise of the entire field. He looked at her again. She sat on the bench so stiffly and still his heart stuttered for a moment in the middle of its racing and he couldn't find the instinct to breathe anywhere. She was looking at him, her face a combination of concern and fear. The latter he could understand: he was in his fight mode and that ought to scare anyone, let alone someone like her, someone who lived and breathed sophisticated and beautiful music and art. Concern was harder to place. Was she concerned about her team? About herself? About... _him?_ He couldn't figure it out, but she hadn't looked away and he looked back for a sustained moment. Then her eyes flicked briefly behind his back and his senses rushed back to him. He could tell the approaching danger with the very skin on his back and he turned and ducked, grabbing Jerry in the process. It was the coaches and teachers coming to separate the brawling teens. It was an easy work for Jack to evade them and escape the crowds.

"Dude, if you're gonna fight every time Bambola is near danger or you're jealous, you better lock it down. Or get ready to be arrested. Cause that shit you pulled on Seaford dudes? That was some brutal stuff. Suspension ain't gonna cover it. Just hope that no one will tattle on you."

Jerry was right, of course. Once the haze of fear for Kim and anger over her injury lifted, he could tell his reaction was ridiculous. She wasn't his. He couldn't be there every time she was hurt. Or if some guy tried to flirt with her. He really ought to let go.

But the treacherous warmth that her tiny hands brought him, the warmth that cracked the numbness and anger, seeped into his heart and would not let go. Like touch of spring in constant winter...

 _Dammit it all to hell!_

A/N: Jack continues to be a 'bit not good.' I warned you that he would be dark. Do you think this progression of his feelings towards Kim is realistic? I'll have more of Kim's prospective next chapter, when they meet again.

Also, if it seems like I am spending too much time on Jack, it's because he is a more complex character here.


	6. Chapter 6

The plans for the joint party between Seaford and Swarthmore were scrapped, but their team still reeling from the epic game and fight, could not just disband now. Somehow the shared experience of a battle, be it in the game or in a brawl, made the team's camaraderie stronger and they all decided to continue to hang out together. Kim really wanted to leave for so many reasons. She didn't want to be near Brett. Her wrist hurt. Grace was harrassing her about J-man and J-dog, who she mentioned only every other sentence. And she really didn't want to see Jim's bruised face, because it made her feel awfully guilty.

He apologized to her profusely, even though she waved it off. She should have been apologizing to him, really. Her wrist was still tender, a bruise already forming on the outside. It looked really bad, but nothing compared to Jim's face. Or his ribs. Which he showed to anyone who'd ask. She suggested that he should go to the hospital, but was waved it off with an amused 'not the first a time I had my ribs bruised.' In fact, he reveled in the physical evidence of the fight. He acted like he single-handedly defeated all of Swarthmore team in hand to hand combat. She wasn't sure what he saw, but in his retelling, J-man and J-dog (who was only trying to get his friend off) were tag-teaming him. And yes, it had worked, since girls looked at him with some degree of awe.

Brett did not dispute it, as he himself told tales of trying to contain the combined power of the J-crew and neither of them connected Jim's beat-down with him knocking her over. She was grateful for small mercies, even if Grace made skeptical faces and would now and then look at her pointedly.

Those looks got even more pointed, when Brett spotted bruising on Kim's hand and, like a magician, pulled out a sport's tape and wrapped her hand. He took his sweet time and murmured how her hands were small, delicate, _talented._ The last bit should have sounded complimentary, but somehow came out with an tone of innuendo and she shuddered slightly at the implications.

Grace rolled her eyes, Jim and Frank leered at her and fist-bumped each other, others either smirked or snickered and Donna... Donna was giving her best attempt to incinerate Kim with just her look.

It was another hour before Kim escaped the main room, where Brett held court. Kim's hands clench into fists. Stupid girls and stupid boys! Brett, the idiot who couldn't take a hint, was obnoxiously obvious with his 'Hey, Kim' routine and casual shoulder rubs. Which apparently counted as flirting, or something. It worked too, in that it made Kim uncomfortable and Donna - incorrigibly rude to Kim. Kim stomped to the bathroom to get away from them both. Not that Kim cared very much about the Donna's rudeness, but she loathed that Donna got an upper hand in her little game. As if Kim _wanted_ Brett all that much.

She looked at herself in the mirror (same face, same hair, tired eyes) and wondered what would happen if she stayed here longer. Would Brett continue to press his attentions on her? Would Donna do more than simply spill drinks? Would she like to date Brett? He wasn't a horrible option, not at all. He had better manners that Randy, he was popular, he certainly knew how to treat a girl... Sure, he came with some baggage. He dated steadily throughout high school and there were a lot of exes. He obviously was status conscious and she would be obliged to be a proper QB girlfriend. And, she imagined, if they were together, she'd wound up having sex with him. All his exes agreed that he was certainly the kind of guy who expected some action after three dates. And she was... not experienced. Like, at all. She would have to confess her virgin status and just imagining the conversation with Brett made her cringe in mortification.

But he was safe, predictable, hadn't exhibited any violent tendencies and was all in all a total antithesis to someone like J-man.

She plastered a smile and went back to the room. Time to rejoin her school mates.

* * *

She ended up sitting with her cheer mates, avoiding Brett and Jim. She could not bring herself to decide now whether she wanted to be with him and she saw disappointment on Brett's face. She waited out until most girls were gone and dropped Grace at her house, all the time avoiding further questions about J-crew from Swarthmore. Grace wasn't exactly subtle and she saw her friend's interest was peaked.

Her parents were on a date night and she didn't expect them until much later. So much the better: if her mom spotted the bandage, she'd flip and then interrogate Kim for hours on end. She probably would drag Kim to doctors for an X-ray. She imagined her parents would hear about the brawl, but she was reasonably assured they'd never suspect that she was the catalyst behind it.

She wondered if she ever would see J-man again. She wasn't sure if she wanted to. He scared and fascinated her. She saw him a total of three times and it was like sea-saw: vulnerable-violent-grateful-violent.

He probably didn't date. Somehow she could not imagine him with a permanent girl by his side. Knowing as little of him as she did, she decided he was the 'bad boy' variety. Not only in the sense of 'no strings, just fooling around,' but also gangs, guns, violence and danger. He felt some sort of gratitude to her and apparently repaid her by 'protecting her.' With very violent outbursts that saw two (more, if you count the brawl) men injured. Despite the undisputed violence of his actions, part of her was fascinated by the fact that she was the cause and reason for them. What did she _mean_ to him?

Her total sum of information on J-man was not reassuring: violent, dangerous, well-off since he went to Swarthmore, and feeling indebted to her. All this combined made her wonder what his issues were. Because it was clear he had them. Why would a rich kid be in a gang? Where were his parents? Why was violence his go-to response? Her mind drew pictures of horrid childhood, or absent parents, or abusive parents, or some serious addiction issues that made him unstable. But all these were just that, conjectures on her part.

Her curiosity was peaked to know more of him. To learn what sort of life he had to be the way that he was. But she could not even imagine how they could cross paths where this sort of conversation could happen for her to get close to him. She could not imagined them getting closer.

She certainly didn't imagine him ringing her doorbell the with scraped knuckles and new bruises forming on visible parts of him.

Home alone, she peaked out a window first to identify the person. Normally, without a car in the driveway, Kim would've ignored them. But assuming it was the elderly neighbor from across the street, who sometimes came with cookies, she figured she'd be fine. Lo and behold, when she threw the door open, the sight of a battered J-man blew her away.

He stood there, tall and steady, but seemingly unsure with his head slightly bowed down to look her in the eyes. His eyes, even with their usual hardness, appeared softer and worn-out. His hands were slack by his sides.

He didn't speak. He didn't have to.

He looked like a cross of himself the first time she met him and the last time she saw him. He was bruised, but he was not bleeding. Yet, his brooding personality was in full view as he just stared at her. There was something in those eyes. She felt awfully unprepared to be seeing this, but he looked at her in wonder and she, while still unsure of her feelings, could not deny that she was well beyond curious.

She looked back, equally silent and, perhaps, because she wasn't slamming door in his face, a small movement lifted the corner of his mouth in an approximation of a smile. No, just a promise of a smile and she realized she never seen him smile fully. This little promise of a smile softened his face and she was struck by just _how_ good looking he was.

Despite any and every logical definition and explanation and what anyone would say, Kim knew that what was happening was beyond his gratitude and her curiosity.

Kim took one look before pulling him inside, locking the door, and leading him upstairs by the hand.

She sat him down on her bed as she went to the bathroom to retrieve the first aid kit. It was weird repetition of their first encounter, although less dramatic.

When she returned to her room, her eyes bulged at the site of J-man's bare chest only to narrow at the tainted colors that marked his body. 'What sort of life he led,' indeed. It was obvious that bruises and injuries were somehow part of his daily life. This was horrifying for so many reasons. And yet, right now, he looked impossibly young and attractive. Setting the box down on her desk, she dragged her computer chair over to sit and got to work on the cuts on his face.

"You don't have to do that," he commented quietly. "It's not that bad. I've had worse- well, you know..."

She only sighed. Yes, it was bad – maybe not the injuries, but definitely the situation. He got these ones because of her. So yes, the least Kim could do was try to fix him up.

"You didn't have to do that to Jim," she said levelly and his eyes cut to hers. She expected him to contradict her, but he hasn't. Probably because he realized that she was right. Still his eyes lingered on her wrapped hand and she knew he didn't quite regret his actions.

She tried her best not to react while tending to him, but she couldn't help it. She winced when he winced. He grimaced and she bit her lip. Kim could only guess how some of these abrasions were inflicted because clearly not all of them came from a the brawl. There were older, yellowed bruises on him and she worried about them too. There was little she could about the contusions on his chest so she just hoped to God that a rib hadn't been fractured or broken.

When all was said and done, she cleaned up and returned the set where she found it. She expected J-man to be back downstairs, maybe even ready to head out again. But there he was, still sitting on her bed the way she left him, shirt on though. Kim didn't know what else to do but resume her spot. So many question roiled in her mind, she wanted to scold him, she wanted to demand answers and insist he stop his guard duties over her, but in the quiet of the hour with him being not exactly vulnerable, but less combative, less ready to strike, she found that she didn't want to fight him.

"Why'd you come here?" she asked finally after a moment of awkward silence.

He shrugged with minimal damage, "Wanted to check on you. How's your hand?"

She realized that he must have waited for her while she was at the party, "You- You waited here? All this time? Since the game?"

"Jerry was giving me a side-eye for getting him involved and Milton was in full-on dad mode with lectures. Got bored with that sh- stuff pretty quickly," he said it casually as if forgetting that she didn't know these Jerry and Milton. The glimpse of his life was somehow precious.

"And you actual dad and mom?" she asked lightly.

His face darkened visibly and she winced at her own faux-pas. Whatever his family situation, it had to be less than ideal. At the very least his parents were neglectful. He was quiet long enough that she ventured to speak despite the visibly hardened expression on his face.

"I'm sorry. You don't have to-"

"They are gone," his voice cut like a knife through her embarrassment and she almost let loose an automatic _'I'm sorry,'_ but held it in because his face was a picture of such hollowness and pain that she forgot how to breathe. Empathy and guilt for bringing it up pierced through her and she wanted to comfort this impossible young man in front of her.

They were quiet again and she wondered if any of her conversations before felt like a work-out.

"I don't think I've seen you look like that before."

Kim could barely comprehend the fact that there was a guy in her room – a guy, whose name she didn't know – and that they were having this conversation. Her eyes continuously darted between her lap and his face in nervousness. The beats of her heart weren't quick, but loud, so much that she swore he could hear the rhythmic pounding against her chest.

"Like what?" she replied, not in feigned innocence, but to simply continue the conversation and away from the subject of his parents.

"Like someone just trashed your piano," he said teasingly and it made her both reassured that her blunder didn't permanently ruined the mood, but also freaked her out, because clearly he knew things about her.

She fought the urge to roll her eyes and glare. But the jab at her expense was well worth the small smile elicited on his face.

"As opposed to…?"

"As opposed to how it's been last couple of times."

Kim swallowed hard at that. She tried to hold his gaze only to lower her head once she felt the same fear she felt in his presence rise unchecked through her being. She squeezed her clasped hands, which told her this was real. This was very real. And happening.

"Can you blame me?" she said because she knew what he meant. And he knew what she meant now.

"No... In fact, you have the right of it. You should be afraid of me."

"Then, why are you here?" Kim wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer. Like, she had suspicions now, but for him to confirm them... Her brain stuttered into full stop at the possibility of that. For real, she could hardly deal with Brett and his level of baggage, how could she possibly handle this guy?

"I shouldn't be..."

"You said that last time too," she said unthinkingly.

"Yeah... Apparently I am shit at doing what's right."

"What–" she started, but stopped when she realized where his gaze fell.

Oh...

Like in a slow motion, his hand lifted to cradle her jaw and then there he just looked at her with intensity and heat that made her shiver. Not wanting to tip over in her rolling chair, Kim inadvertently placed her hands on his knees for support. Her eyes were open until the last second – wanting to remember this, document it for later, but still engage in the present. They inched closer and closer until the space in between was eliminated. She felt the heat, the flush, his lips...

And then he pulled back... She stopped where she was, suspended half-way between the chair and the bed, when he pulled her closer and she landed sideways on his lap.

Her eyes were still closed when she felt his fingers slide around her neck and then up into the hair to cradle the back of her head. She kept eyes closed and breathed through her parted lips slowly. She could feel his breath on her face and then his nose at the temple. They exhaled together and he moved to press his forehead against hers. It was calming and alarming at the same time—intense. She clutched at the front of his shirt and suddenly her bottom lip was between his teeth.

She moaned and like the dam that broke, her inhibitions were unleashed at that moment. She realized that all this time between the roadside rescue and now, she lived in suspense, expecting a contact with him, and it was finally happening. There was no use trying to sprinkle water over a blaze this strong. When he crashed his mouth against hers, she let hers open and welcomed his tongue into her mouth. The kiss was intense, he was overwhelming, he was everywhere, and he moved with intent and she felt the passion behind it all. And yet, he was surprisingly gentle with her: his hand on the back of her head to tilt her head just so, his other hand hugged her close to him and he curved himself to her shape. She was torn by the passion and tenderness... Oh, but he could kiss... Stealing breath and making her light headed...

It must have lasted minutes or just a few seconds, but his phone made a chirping noise and she sprang from his embrace like a skittish colt. He himself looked like he regretted the kiss, as his jaw was clenched tight and he had that pinched, disappointed, look on his face. He pulled his phone and even though the screen was locked she saw the the notification of the text. For about thirty seconds it showed as a preview of the message. Kim couldn't help herself and looked. It was from someone named Bianca and it read: _U want 2 ignore me after that nite? Fine! But that bitch Emily has herpes & u'll get it 2! _

She had a sense of displacement and froze while he glanced at the screen and muttered something about 'putanas'* as he put the phone away. Thoughts rapidly ran through her head, just as the sense of displacement morphed into a feeling of her stomach dropping, making her nauseous with shame and anger. He was with a girl? At night? What were they doing? What did she _think_ they were doing? Playing cards? How stupid and naïve could she be? She shook her head and winced at the painful mortification and shock from the sense of betrayal. Why did she even feel betrayed? She was nothing to him! Just another girl... She managed to look away and walked slowly to the door of her room. How stupid of her...

"You have to go now. My folks would be back soon," she managed to say without stuttering.

There was shuffle behind her and then she felt the warmth of his body behind her, "Thank you, Bambola. And stay away from the quarterback. He's a user. Sooner or later, he'd get in trouble. You don't want to be caught in the impact zone."

Was it her, or did it sound they were talking about someone else and not Brett?

She only waited until he blended into the dark of the night before she let tears fall. She was sad and also mad at herself: it was nothing. Nothing! Just couple of encounters with a dangerous and alluring guy, whom she saved and who saved her in return, but that was it. Everything else was just her imaginings and her selfish pride in being singled out by someone so different. She quite possibly fell for the oldest trap in the world: a bad boy. There must have been dozens of Biancas and Emilys and she was one of many girls, who fell for the brooding charms of the bad boy. He was dangerous, and a manwhore, and he scared the hell out of her anyways.

She should stay in her lane: safe and ordinary guys were her speed and she was a boring good girl. She had plans fro her life, she didn't need some secretive and frustrating guys to screw it up for her.

*Putana (Italian) - prostitute.

A/N: They talked a little and kissed a bit too! And the first aid box made an appearance! Do you hate me now that I'm dragging it out? Just remember, Kim knows next to nothing about Jack. And he doesn't help being all mysterious. So, she reacts like a girl, who discovered that the guy she's crushing on has been having fun with other girls. There will be more of Kick next chapter, promise.


	7. Chapter 7

When Grant saw Jack with fresh bruises, he only shook his head and told him he had to skip the sparring and only do the conditioning. Again. Jack didn't bother with arguing. The unexpected brawl at the game didn't exactly sideline him, but in his irrational anger he left himself open a couple of times. He'd argue that it was because of the multiple opponents, as opposed to the usual one-on-one, but he had to be honest with himself. He was too distracted by her presence, too incensed by her injury, too intent on hurting just one guy.

Jerry, who stopped grumbling about the brawl and whom Jack caught checking Kim's file, was at the gym and filled in Grant on the general details of the fight. Jack wanted to be irritated with his friend, but he knew that sooner or later this information would have made it to Grant anyway. His trainer listened carefully and then arranged for Jack's next session to have multiple opponents in an effort to improve Jack's blocking and agility. He also managed to get Jack to confess that his attention was not entirely on the fight because of the girl he knew was injured.

To say that Grant was surprised would be an understatement. Grant took to his role of Jack's trainer quite seriously and when Jack's parents died, he did his best to talk to Jack in an effort to draw him out of his armor of anger and numbness. Jack's responses were to fight or to ignore all overtures. He knew that his friends, Grant, and the therapist were all concerned about his state. It was probably because of that concern, Grant was now trying to talk to Jack about 'the girl who was injured.' To Grant this would be the first time Jack mentioned anyone new since his parent's death. So his trainer gave him a completely unnecessary lecture about responsibility and Jack nearly winced when the topic turned to keeping focus on the fight.

As if he needed another reminder that his life was already complicated enough without losing his attention to pretty girls. Grant had no idea about Jack's actual family history or the things he and his friends dabbled in. He himself wouldn't know what to call their operations. It wasn't exactly vigilante work. It might have been such for Milton and Jerry, but Jack was in it for less altruistic reasons. And if he were successful in his search, it would take him to East Coast to seek revenge on one of the original mob families. There was no place for anyone in his life.

His kiss with Kim was... stupid. Incredibly so. Because she was innocent and yet her kisses were heady. He'd gone from zero to horny in one touch of her lips. And now that he had kissed her, he was fighting with himself, not sure if the better judgement would win.

He was desperately trying to come to terms with his new situation, and all of the feelings that came with it. Lust certainly wasn't a new emotion for him, he'd never felt it this insistently before, but at least it was familiar. The constant and overwhelming need to see her, be near her, on the other hand, was new. Although perhaps the most difficult thing to get a handle on, was the feeling of quiet warmth and staggering protectiveness that replaced his numbness and dulled his anger. And all of this was directed at a girl, who absolutely did not need him in her life. She should be living the high school dream of a perfect boyfriend. He certainly wasn't anyone's boyfriend material.

The jealousy that rose in him was on par with anger.

He could tell this wasn't going to end well.

* * *

Apparently Brett still hasn't figured out that Kim was at best ambivalent about him, so for the rest of the weekend he blew up her phone with messages and calls, and come Monday morning he was all over Kim again. He had some interesting shadowing around his eye, which she didn't think was there after the game, but maybe she missed it. He and Jim looked like they had the crap beaten out of them. Which they did. By now Kim was fully aware just how much damage J-man could inflict.

Grace joined Kim by the lockers and gave Brett a very pointed 'girl talk, no dicks allowed' look and he retreated. Kim sighed in relief only to have Grace pull her out of the school to the farthest bench.

"So, are you still gonna lie that you don't know the Dragon guy or what?" she spoke while searching for the cigarette. Grace took to calling him that because of the dragon tattoo that J-man had on his forearm.

Kim scoffed and sat farther away from Grace, "Seriously, Grace?" Grace only stared at her and puffed a small cloud in Kim's direction, "You are such a jerk." She sat on the opposite end of the table and contemplated lying again, but her most recent disappointment was weighing on her heavily.

Finally she sighed, "I didn't lie. I don't know him. I don't even know his name."

"But, you've met him before?"

"Well, remember that night when Randy followed me after the party?" Kim decided to give the redacted version of events. At Grace's nod she continued, "So, Randy caught up with me and he was totally smashed, so he tried to grab me and I stabbed his foot with my heel."

"The fuck?!" Grace yelped and stabbed out her cancer stick. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because, before it could escalate, this guy appears out of nowhere and, like I am not sure what exactly happened, but I turned and Randy was unconscious on the ground."

"The Dragon?"

"Yes. He was there and I thanked him and he just disappeared into the night."

"And that's it?"

"Well, then Brett told us that Randy's hand was broken..."

Grace's eyes went wide and she looked at Kim in a new light, "Fuck, Kim. You think it was the Dragon?"

"I don't know! But the next time I saw him was at the game, when he was pummeling Jim into a pulp."

"Because Jim struck you and tackled you."

"By accident, Grace. Not that he stopped to ask questions. And maybe he just hates Seaford High. Maybe it has nothing to do with me." Grace looked at her unimpressed and Kim admitted that it was very unlikely. "And then he came to my house."

Grace gasped, actually gasped at this, "No fucking way! And then what?"

"And I gave him some first aid and we kissed," Kim said it quickly and it felt great to finally share it with someone. "Before you say anything, yes, it was good; and no, it won't happen again, because he looked like he wasn't happy afterwards and he had a message on his phone from a girl named Bianca reminding him about 'last night.'"

At this point Kim knew she was lying, because last night, while she hadn't actually seen him, she felt him outside looking in. The little hairs at the nape rose as if to greet their old friend. She just couldn't tell her friend that.

"Ok, uh... wow," Grace laced fingers together and rested her chin on them. Kim gave a sad smile in return. "Ok," Grace said, trying to find words again. "i wasn't expecting _that,_ but ok."

Kim actually disagreed with it being 'ok,' but she kept silent, spent from the earlier confession.

"Do you... like him?" Grace's eyes showed worry, but her smile was gentle.

Kim took her time to answer. Somehow it felt like the answer she'd give now would change everything. That sounded dramatic, but it was felt true enough. "I, uh... It doesn't matter..." To her, she sounded pathetic and the tears that she shed couple of days ago were on the surface again.

"Wow... It's bad," Grace said and took Kim's hand in hers. She was so right; Kim should have never kept this from her friend. Kim didn't realize how much she was holding back until right this moment. Her chest was heavy, her eyes were welling, and she wanted to cry and throw up and scream all at the same time.

"Look at me, Kimmy," Grace said as she started to rub Kim's shoulder in comfort. When Kim finally got the courage to lift her gaze, she smiled and said, "It's going to be okay. Just admit that you like him, and we can go from there."

Kim sighed and closed her eyes. "I like him," she mumbled very softly. "But it doesn't matter, because obviously he has issues that I'm not sure I can handle. And he has plenty of girls and I am just one of many," she snorted and rolled her eyes. "And he had audacity to tell me to stay clear of Brett."

Grace gasped again, "Are you going to listen to him?"

"Brett just wants _me,_ no one else, so I should choose Brett," Kim, who tangled one hands in her hair, pulled at it and at least one got plucked by the roots and she chuckled because she felt like J-man has done the exact same thing to her.

Grace leaned back and looked at the cloudless blue sky, "But what the hell does choosing Brett matter if you want Dragon?" She rolled her head to stare at Kim.

Kim bit her lip and shrugged. "It's fine," she laughed softly. "It's just high school anyways. It's not like it's forever or anything, ok?"

Grace nodded and squeezed Kim's hand again. It was comforting to have talked it out with someone.

* * *

It was seven days later and Kim broke down and went to Phil's falafel shop, with Grace, Brett and Brody, who was now the wide receiver instead of Randy.

Seven days ago J-man left her with a vague warning and a kiss that was better than any kisses she had had so far.

Seven days. And he had disappeared.

With a murmur of her nickname, he had vanished back into the darkness and never returned.

Seven days.

Had she not been absolutely certain of her sanity, and because Jim still looked bruised, she might have believed that she had conjured him up. Aside for the game at Swarthmore, she never saw him in a daylight. And the game was also at night, just the field was illuminated. He had come to her in the middle of the night, and he left soon after.

Somehow she expected him to show up again. She wasn't entirely ready to pick apart her feelings, but she wanted to be more to him than just one of the girls. She hated that she was jealous when she had no right to be so. But then the kiss... Yeah, the kiss...

And now, it was like he did not exist.

And she was pissed.

And like a perfect foil for J-man broodiness and elusiveness, Brett was there: attentive, handsome, ready to wait for her. Only an idiot wouldn't jump into that. Only an idiot would wait for someone else.

So, here she was. On an awkward group date that wasn't a date, because Kim wanted some boundary drawn between being single and being with Brett. Kim was doing her best to look interested in the football talk and secretly despaired that she'd fall asleep at any moment. Grace subtly kicked her under the table when Kim drifted off and missed a question from Brett.

"Excuse me, I just remembered that I need to make a call," Kim shot out of the booth and stepped into the bathroom hallway. Its not going well, she thought. _Get it together, Kim_. she berated herself. She was so engrossed in her own thoughts that when she closed the bathroom door, she didn't even realize that the hair on her neck rose. Or that she was not quite as alone in the hallway, or that amidst the cloud of smoke, leaning against the wall was J-man.

She came to a complete stop two feet in front of him and blinked in confusion. What was he doing here? What if someone recognized him? Was he crazy? Her heart slammed into the ribcage and thudded painfully. This guy had such an effect on her: it's like her body and mind could nor decide whether to fight to take flight. It was frustrating and somehow, bizarrely, something she relished.

But then she remembered his casually violent life and the text, so she took a small step back. Her eyes darted around in search of someone, _anyone_ else that might be here to diffuse the sudden tension. Her irrational fear must have been obvious to him, because he chuckled darkly as he took another drag from his cigarette.

She didn't say anything and neither did he. Her feet didn't move when he pushed off the wall and advanced towards her achingly slow. She watched his cheeks hallowed out and his lips pursed before he blew his smoke out.

"Why are you here?" she said and scrunched her nose in mild distaste at the smoke in the air. Maybe Bianca didn't mind the smoke-

His eyes never left her face as he stabbed out his cigarette.

Kim heart was hammering away inside her chest. She was nervous. The previous anger transforming into the heightened awareness of the situation and this strange guy, who popped up unexpected in her life for the fourth time now. He reached his free hand out and curved a knuckle down the side of her face. She gulped and held her breath, too afraid that it would come out shaky and he'd know how he was affecting her right now.

"I waited for you," he said unexpectedly. She turned away from his hand and quickly his fingers wrapped around her chin to bring her face back around. "Are you afraid of me?" he asked and there was something there, like he expected her fear and hated seeing it.

"You always startle me when you show up so randomly," she said just as he blurted out. "And I was-"

"Are you with that guy? The quarterback?" and his eyes hardened. "Answer me."

Suddenly he was looming over her and his eyes stared her down. And just like that she was scared again.

He saw how wide her eyes were and released her chin only to cradle Kim's face between his hands. "Hey," he muttered softly, "I'm sorry."

She shook her head and felt the throat tighten up. She kept thinking about that night with Randy and the game with Jim, remembering the broken fingers on _left_ hand. Randy's only transgression was to talk to her while drunk and being handsy. He even apologized the next day. Jim didn't even intend to do anything to her. That was merely an accident. And yet, this guy left him bruised and hurt. Jim's bruised face was alternating with J-man's look of concentration as he rained punches on him, with the text message on the phone.

"I don't even know you," she stepped away from him, "Not even your name. J-man is all I have. Or 'that injured guy.' Or buddy. That's what I called you, when you were bleeding." She paused and then asked directly, "Did you do something to Randy? Did you- Did you break Randy's hand?" His face showed confusion and she clarified, "The guy who grabbed me near my house?"

He didn't answer, but his face contorted into mask a fury so breathtaking and his fists clenched so tight, that Kim knew the answer anyway. "You freaked me out, when I heard about his hand. And you almost put Jim to hospit-"

"It's Jack..."

She looked at him and took a deep breath. "I gotta go, Jack. Grace will come looking for me soon."

"Are you mad at me? But that guy- He grabbed you and he was drunk and wasn't gonna be nice. And the idiot linebacker-"

"Oh, God! It _is_ about me! Why? Is it still gratitude for when I found you? Because I need you to stop it. I don't you to maim people in my name. And I'm not yours to worry about," she said quietly at him.

"It's not gratitude!" he roared and she shrunk back from him. "That evening- After the game- At your place- Didn't it mean-"

"Obviously not, J-man," she said sarcastically and had to close her eyes against the naked crushed look on his face.

It didn't last long though and soon his eyes darkened and his jaw clenched in the same way it had that night when he'd hit Jim. She took a step away from him and then another and right when she was about to turn and go back out to the cafe, she was jerked backwards and pressed up against the hallway wall.

"Do you…" he paused and buried his face in her hair while his hands squeezed her waist almost painfully. "Do you have any idea how hard I've tried to fight-" he exhaled a shaky breath and slid one of his hands up her waist and over the chest to cup her face and tilt it towards his.

Somehow she knew he meant to kiss her. Right now, she realized that if her and Jack kissed, they'd be together. Because while she didn't know who Jack was, she knew he was intense and completely possessive and territorial ( _broken fingers, bruised faces, watching her windows_ , her mind screamed).

Suddenly she had a hard time breathing.

"I have to go," she muttered truthfully.

He slid his nose down the side of her face and hovered his lips over hers. "No you don't," he whispered without kissing her.

"Yes I do. Please let me go," she begged him with her eyes clenched shut. "I can't do this right now, okay? I just— _oh!_ " she gasped when he pressed himself closer and she could feel the hard planes of his body against her. He was warm and solid and the strength in him felt dangerous and comforting at the same time. She was lost, she was confused by her own reactions. She opened eyes and whimpered when she felt her own body react to him, making her breath hitch.

"If I see that pigskin player touch you again?" his eyes stared daggers at her own before he leaned down and whispered into her ear, "I will break his throwing arm."

She froze in his arms. He pulled back and she saw that his face has morphed into something that made her shut her mouth tight. There was so much raw hate and anger. Possession and jealousy. On what grounds did he even have the right to feel these sorts of emotions? It scared her.

Would he really hurt Brett? She closed my eyes and breathed through nose. Of course he would! _Broken fingers, bruised body, knife wound, so much blood, guns_ , her mind sputtered at her in quick succession.

The first touch of his lips was gentle, like the wisp of butterfly wings. She reeled from how different he was from the heated words just earlier. Her lips tingled and unconsciously she leaned into his kiss, because she felt the urgent need to touch those lips again.

She didn't realize she was on her tip-toes, until she lowered herself and he rumbled his displeasure, but soon stepped even close to her, his one leg going between hers and suddenly the height difference was evened out and she was straddling his thigh. Her left leg rose up to curl around the back of his thigh to pull him closer to her. He grunted and she could feel his jean covered hard on against her lower abdomen. It thrilled her and scared at the same time.

What was happening to her? How did he do that? She was a virgin, a prude if one were to believe the rest of the squad, and yet she was more than ready to kiss and make out with _Jack_ right here in the back of the dingy falafel shop. The crowd outside was a constant murmur and kitchen noise was somewhere further down. But all she comprehended was the fact that Jack's hand on her lower back now slid down to curve around her butt while the other was still in her hair.

"Let's get out of here," he whispered against her lips.

"Nnnngn..." Kim managed breathlessly.

Her unsteady moan-whisper just made him fuse himself harder to her and now they both were breathing hard, his lips hungry, kisses nipping and biting and hands touching and stroking.

Oh, god, it was too much... She had to stop. She didn't know him. He was dangerous. In so many ways...

" _Jack_ ," she exhaled his name shakily and pressed her forehead into his shoulder. She shuddered and tried to calm down, mortification engulfing her, when suddenly there was a loud sound that was coming from his back pocket.

"Ignore it," he said against the crown of hair and kissing along the side of her face, but then there was a voice calling her name and she quickly shoved him as far away from herself as she could. Her eyes darted around wildly in search of the owner of the voice and Jack cursed under his breath.

"I gotta go," she said.

She tried to slip away, but Jack's hand was on her wrist gripping it hard as he pulled her over to him. His face hardened. "I wasn't fucking around when I said I'd break his arm if he touches you again."

She gulped and nodded her head because right then all she wanted was to get as far away from him and out of this hallway.

"Good. Stay out of trouble, Bambola," he winked and walked out of the shop's back door.

Kim took in a shaky breath and sprinted out.

She left Phil's soon after. Kim couldn't shake off the encounter with Jack. He all but called her his and confirmed that he broke Randy's hand because of her. Coupled with the whole incident during the game, Kim had an awful feeling that Grace was right. He wasn't going to let go easily.

But she also could not deny that certain part of her responded to him like never before. Certain part of her wanted to be his.

A/N: Still good with this Jack? What do you think of Kim here?


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Thank you all for kind reviews. I am continuously surprised by the positive response to this story and this Jack.

* * *

The match that was in the plans to go against Ty's trainee was finally taking shape. And Milton came through on the some surveillance he was able to pull from CCTV cameras around the gym. Jack got the news on both at the same day. In fact, that was Milton blowing up his phone that ruined his second kiss with Kim.

"Milton, this better be good," Jack barked into the phone watching Kim sprint out of the hall.

"I got some leads on the guys who jumped you."

"Meet me at Manny's," Jack was immediately alert, the strange mix of tenderness and lust that always descended on him when he was with her lifted to be replaced with the usual cold and efficient anger.

When he got there he was greeted by Jerry, who probably skipped school again. Milton was practically on independent study tracks with most of his classes and Jack was only bothered for homework and tests. Teachers called it special accommodation, given his unusually violent 'responses to the recent trauma.'

"I am not hundred percent sure. The gym doesn't have cameras on the parking lot, and I had slowly expanded my search to check traffic cameras and security camera feeds of nearby stores and banks, and, of course, there is-"

"Milton."

"Sorry. Here is the visual on the car that I think carried you and your assailants," Milton produced a screen shot of an Escalade with suspiciously dirty license plates. "Yes, I know, it's not much, but I did notice - well, I am making an educated guess here - but look at this Corevtte following the Escalade. I think this was the brains behind the muscle, if you will."

Jack looked at the screen. Both cars were newest models and were quite pricey together. "Did you get anything on the Corvette?"

"Well, officially it was one of many cars owned by the Truman family," Milton paused for emphasis.

Chase Truman was the rich prick, who got the beat down from Jack that first time. Jack was a little surprised: it wasn't as if he and Chase crossed paths all that often and Jack thought that the petulant boy was too cowardly to do anything like arrange an ambush.

Milton waited for the news to sink in and then continued, "But, recently, his father reported this car stolen, only to retract the complaint. It would appear that Chase lost it either in a bet or as a payment for debt." Jack only looked at Milton, knowing that there was more. "Chase loves his uppers and has been moving away from the usual school dealers. He must have gotten mixed up with more serious people. Before you ask, no, I don't know who, but... You know as well as I do that people, who bet on your matches, are often the same people who use and sell. It could be that Truman recognized you from some match and with a fix on the match he could have boosted his fortunes or made someone else's bet sure."

"Or it could be someone, who we dealt with on our side business. Since we don't know for sure?" Jack actually would have preferred it was the fixers of the match, rather than the alternative.

"We wouldn't know until we figure out who Chase lost the car to."

"I guess we have to talk to him," he would have preferred not to as he wanted as little overlap between his civilian and shadow lives, but-

"I'll chat with Chase," Jerry said and Jack looked at his friend. "Hey, he doesn't know me. It's better this way."

With that out if the way Jack left for the gym, where Grant had news about the match. Apparently, Jack's reputation on the ring grew enough to catch the eye of one of the bigger match sponsors - Bruno Amato. And he put his weight behind Ty and his fighters.

"Who _is_ Bruno Amaro? I don't think I have heard anyone talking about him."

"Amato is one of the big boys in the LA scene. He has his hand in tons of things. He gambles away his money and his father's money. Horses, cards, sports, and in the past two years he has been frequenting the fighting circles. He was doing the whole boxing thing but I assume got bored of all the rules that got in the way of fixing the fights to his liking. Amato is the reason why the payouts have been so high lately. When he came onto the scene, he also brought along his high-roller friends. He has connections all over the country. He's a rich punk, but the money he throws down on these matches is good. Look, Jack, you not the only fighter I have and you might not need the money, but others do. And Amato seems to be in this phase right now where he himself has been obtaining fighters. So, Ty has been supplying the new fighters."

"And the new fighter?"

"Someone named Carson Blackwater. He is about your age and has been a karate kid."

"So, the usual for Ty's fighters," Jack wasn't particularly worried.

"You know Ty. He is a blowhard and not particularly smart, but his style had changed lately. And I've seen this Carson. He is an intense fighter. He has a lot of drive and he is going to be tough to beat. And Ty never, ever, tried to fight without some trick up his sleeve."

"So expect the higher than usual level of bullshit from them?"

"I'd say. Amato wouldn't want to lose and Carson wouldn't want to disappoint. I even thought it was them, who ambushed you."

That gave Jack pause. The name alone got his attention. It was Italian and he viewed any coincidence of this kind suspiciously. Could it have been that easy though? Amato may have been a rich man throwing money for the thrills of no-rules matches, but was he really connected to the Bruneri? It was a stretch, it was too obvious, and he wanted to eliminate the connection to Chase Truman first before he could track this possible connection. Too bad he hadn't heard this name earlier to clear it out.

"If they did, then their fighter is not that good."

"Or there is a lot of money is riding on this match."

"I am ready," Jack's hands itched for a decent fight.

* * *

Grace came into Kim's house and forcibly dragged her out under the pretense of needing help to shop. When they were in Grace's car, Kim looked over at her friend.

"Grace, what's this about?"

"Well, this is me being a good friend, so you're welcome," Grace was sarcastic and Kim scoffed at her. "Kimmy, you've been holed up in your house and that's too antisocial even for you, Ms. I-am-going-to-be-the-best-pianist-ever. I know that Brett doesn't do it for you, and that Mr. Dragon is not an option, so you've been too down lately. Well, what do you say? Let's go and just chill? Shop, try shoes, talk smack about Donna?"

Kim laughed at that and felt a little better since it was better than sitting home and obsessing over every interaction she had with Jack, "Ok."

Later, Kim would regret agreeing to Grace's scheme.

They shopped and tried shoes; they ate and drank ridiculously complicated coffee drinks and even managed to squeeze a mani-pedi session in between. They were just sitting at the coffee shop when a guy, handsome enough and cocky, stopped by their table. He clearly was hitting on Grace and she was not averse. Chase, as he introduced himself, went to Swarthmore and admitted that he saw both of them during the infamous game and they clearly made an impression. Grace was looking like she was eating this up. She purred and smiled and looked from under her lashes and Kim was ready to kick her under the table. It was when Chase stepped out to the bathroom that Kim turned and hissed at her friend.

"Grace, I thought today is going to be a girls' day out?"

"It still is. I'm just gonna exchange digits with Chase and then I am all yours. Some of us don't have two guys after them, you know?" Grace made puppy eyes and Kim relented. It wasn't big deal and Grace was single at the moment.

Chase was out for a suspiciously long time and girls were getting curious when he finally came out looking a lot worse for wear. He was pale and held himself very rigidly, sweat marring his forehead and his clothes rumpled. Grace gasped and went to pull a chair for him, but he waved it off.

"I am terribly sorry, ladies, but I am afraid I must go now," he spoke through clenched teeth and looked behind him at least twice.

"Of course," Grace said, although it sounded confused. "You should go, if you are in a hurry. It was nice to meet you Chase..." her sentence left hanging and any other guy would have used an opening to ask for a number or another date, but Chase only nodded and left, after another look to the back.

"Well, that was weird," Grace said. "You'd think he saw someone and had to leave. Oh! Do you think he has a girl and, like, saw her or their friends or something?"

Kim's stomach turned cold and she looked to the back, almost expecting Jack's dark scowl, but then shook it off. She was being ridiculous.

She changed her mind on that, when she and Grace left the shop to find J-dog hanging at the parking lot in the front. He rolled in on a bike, the roar disrupting and deafening. Grace's mouth dropped open and Kim thought she saw her friend vibrate from the onslaught of emotions. There was no denying that J-dog looked every inch the bad guy. He casually rolled to a stop right next to where they stood and winked at both of them.

"What a do, chicas?" His dark eyes were trained on Grace, but his next words were strictly for Kim. "Bambola, I need you to come with me."

"Why?" Kim managed, but her heart constricted painfully.

He finally looked at her and she knew the reason before he said it. It was Jack. Something was going on and either he was in trouble or she was.

"I need you to come with me," he repeated and this time she only nodded. She got on the back of his bike, having promised Grace that she'd call when she got home. J-dog drove like crazy and soon they arrived at some giant warehouse looking building by the old docks. J-dog killed the engine and grabbed her by the hand, dragging her to the main entrance where people milled about. It would seem that an event of sorts was taking place inside and the cars parked around were numerous and expensive. Kim looked around nervously, fidgeting with her pale pink sleeveless top and skinny jeans. J-dog was called out by someone and briefly she was left alone in full view of the obvious bouncers. Those guys were huge, tattooed and looked at her appraisingly. She fidgeted even more, feeling exposed and vulnerable in this strange place. They stared her down and she was grateful when J-dog came and threw an arm over her shoulder, leading her toward another door.

"What is this place?"

"It used to be an old warehouse. Amato's father owns the building so we should be okay. But on the off chance that the cops do show up here, I want you to stick close to me and Grant, okay? We'll make sure you get out, alright?"

Kim looked at him in frustration, "I didn't understand a word you just said. Why did you bring me here? I thought something happened to Jack. What's going on?"

"The match, Kim. Jack is facing Carson, who is sponsored by Amato." She shook her head and J-dog looked dismayed and his face was a look of shock, "You don't know? You really don't know? What the fuck Jack's thinking? Fuck! Now I'm in deep shit with him."

He paced furiously and looked at her with suspicion, "Damn it! I shouldda asked Milton to check you for ties to-! Dammit! Jack lost his mind together with his balls! What were you doing with Truman? How do you know him?"

He was so angry right now, she vividly recalled the gun this guys owned. She gulped, "Who is Truman? You are making no sense! Why would Jack be mad at you?"

He cursed again, long a loud and part of it was in Spanish. Or at least she thought it was. He looked back at her and grabbed her hand again. They were still close to the entrance and he pulled her to the corner, where there were few people and no bouncers.

"Truman. The guy in the coffee shop. How do you know him? Don't lie to me, Kimberly!" His face was dead serious and he looked like the last time she saw him at Manny's shop.

"I don't know him. He was flirting with us at the coffee shop, that's all," she said quickly and winced when J-dog cursed again and hitting the wall with his fist. Something wasn't making sense, but Kim was sure it had everything to do with Jack.

"Is- Is this Truman guy- Do you and Jack know him? Did you make him leave Grace and I alone? Why? Is he another one of guys that Jack's wants to warn me off? And why are we here?" she was irritated and frustrated and scared.

J-dog looked at her for a long time and then sighed, "If I am going to be in trouble with him, might as well do it properly." When she looked at him without understanding he smirked at her, "I gotta say, Bambola, you got my boy so twisted, it was almost funny to watch. I can't believe he is just warning you off the guys and the guys - off you. That's some weird 'piss on the leg' shit. Listen, Jack is a fighter, an underground, illegal, no-rules, betting allowed, kind of fighter. We are here because he has a match coming up. The guy, who owns this place is one of the big players and he bet against Jack. The night you found him, he was beat up to fix the match. I was checking on Truman 'cause his car was in the vicinity of where Jack was jumped. Get it now? I saw him with you, thought Truman somehow learned about you being Jack's woobie and I intervened. And stupidly brought you here."

Kim stared at J-dog and tried to process everything he said. It made sense. It fit the little she knew about Jack. She didn't understand the part about woobie, but she got the general sense. It seemed that this underground fighting was a big business and things like fixing the match by sidelining one of the fighters was part for the course for this world.

"And Jack didn't want me to know any of this," she whispered. "Didn't want me to get close enough to find out. And now he would be pissed. Is this why he plays hot and cold all the time?" she asked J-dog and he simply shrugged. She looked to the other end of the warehouse: the din of people talking and music playing sounded surreal to her now. There were plenty of people there and some were so well-dressed - men in sharp and expensive clothes, women in gorgeous outfits. Jack was part of this world: with high paying players and danger at every corner. Her heart thumped hard again. He lived such a dangerous life. This match would be brutal and he probably would be hurt. This was what he warned her about. That night at her home, when they first kissed.

 _And when she saw the message._

Her heart swooped low again and she gasped at the sudden pain of that reminder. "Take me back, please."

"No can do, Bambola. Since you don't know Truman, chances are he knows what you mean to Jack. We need to at least check it."

"Fine, check it. If there is something, Jack knows, hell, all of you apparently, know how to find me. You can fill me in later."

He looked at her shrewdly and his voice changed tone, "Even if I wanted to, Jack is expecting me to report now. I'll have to tell him about you and he'd be pissed and distracted-"

"Then don't tell him now. Do it later-"

"What's this about, Bambola? Are you gonna break his heart now?"

"I-" she didn't get to finish, because J-dog's face changed expression from earnest interest to a cold smirk.

"Jerry Martinez, how are you?" a tall tan man with a blow-out hair style spoke to them. "Here to see Jack match up with Carson? I hope you are ready with you first-aid."

"Just keep walking, Ty. You are the one, who's been buying the first aid in bulk. I think we'd be fine," with that J-dog, no, Jerry, took Kim's arm again and simply towed her to the front.

She felt that prickle of fear when she saw the mat in the center of the room. The ring being used here was almost brand new. There were two rows of metal chairs directly around the arena and metal bleachers behind them. All the stuff looked new. More importantly, she saw Jack sitting on one of the benches to the side. Her insides melted. He was wearing a pair of gym shorts and nothing else; the waistband was thick and wide, hugging him around his abs tightly. His magnificent physique was on full display, unobstructed by clothes or bruises and he was impressively built. His new scar from the cut was one of few and his tattoo on the forearm stood out starkly. His ankles and feet were taped up. An older man was currently taping up his left hand.

Slowly, his gaze traveled around the large space and eventually landed on her. She saw the moment he recognized her. His face morphed from concentration into shock, awe and then anger. She almost flinched at the sight of it and then realized that the last look was addressed to Jerry.

Jack nodded and motioned to the side and turned to leave. Jerry walked her to a row of what looked like offices, module rooms built like Legos against the wall of the warehouse. She stepped in and suddenly she was right in front of Jack. He looked pissed. Worse than that time after the kiss at her house. She stumbled to a full stop and looked back to find Jerry right behind her. A hand on her chine brought her back to Jack, when he traced her face with his taped hand and she shivered at the contrast between the skin and the rough surface of the wrapping. Before anything more could happened, his eyes shifted behind her.

"The fuck were you thinking, Jerry, bringing her here?" she jumped a little at the harsh tone. His eyes momentarily dropped to hers and visibly softened.

"Saw that Truman was talking to her..." she saw Jack's eyes widen and then narrow again as they scanned her up and down. "Relax, she didn't know him. She apparently doesn't know anything," this part Jerry mumbled quietly. "He was hitting on her friend. I told him to get lost."

Jack looked at Jerry intently and it was as if they had an entire silent conversation. Whatever it was that Jack got from it, he looked at her with a mix of fond exasperation and incredible tenderness. It made her heart turn over.

"You can't seem to stay out of trouble, Bambola. What am I going to do with you?"

A/N: Finally, Kim is learning about Jack and his life.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Thank you so much. Your reviews make my day.

I tried to keep this without getting too wordy. They get to talk briefly, she gets to see him as a fighter in all his glory, there is some plot afoot... In fact, this is a big plot development event, so we might not get to Kick having conversion about Kick until later chapter. Sorry...

* * *

She would have bristled at his words, at the suggestion of her being the troublesome one, when he was here willingly participating in some barbaric ritual of blood sport. But the reality of the situation was dawning on her and she knew that somehow between the kisses they had and this unexpected exposure into his life, they were verging on crossing the Rubicon. There would be no going back after this: she was here with him and it was a startling thing.

"Jack- Do you really have to-" she began to speak with an unsure smile at him, but that was as far as she got.

He pulled her over to him. Then he took her neck in one hand, roughly wrapped the other around her waist and kissed her hard. He kissed her very, very, very hard. The pressure was almost painful on her lip. It didn't stop it from being one of the best kisses of her life but the desperation, the fear behind the kiss floored her. She felt the heat rise to her face when she realized they were still in a room with his friend watching as she was making out with a half-naked Jack . When he finally pulled away, they were both breathing hard and panting. He leaned his head against hers and spoke.

"Bambola, I am so sorry... It's dangerous. I'm dangerous. You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't have ever seen this, or came close to this. God, I'm so bad at doing the right thing. And now it might be too late," his whisper was a warm breeze over her face as he peppered small kisses everywhere. "They can't see you here. You have to leave. Wait in the parking lot; I don't care if you don't go home. I can't do this if you're watching, Kim. Please? I won't be able to think straight if I know you're right here. For me, just wait outside. It will all be over soon and we can move on."

The urgency he used when he spoke made her feel guilty. She didn't want to be the reason he got hurt. This impossible young man, strong and able and dangerous, was begging her because she was his weakness. Tears welled up in her eyes and she looked away, trying desperately to hide the emotions there. She didn't want him to see her fear.

"Okay, I'll leave. But, so help me God, Jack, you'd better be walking out of here later. We have so much to talk about. About this, about us, about everything."

"Shhhh. Nothing could keep me away from you. Nothing. Now, run, Bambola. Run and wait for me."

There wasn't any time for Kim to answer, as the fighters were called in to the ring. She saw him leave the office with his trainer and caught his words.

"Alright, now just remember what we went over during training. Watch the rabbits, the kidney punches and definitely watch for his liver punches… you know how much Ty's fighters favors them. Remember that you are faster than Carson is and you're better at blocking, so use that to your advantage. In the sparring that I got to see, I've noticed that he gets a little hot headed around the second round so make sure you save up your energy for that one, it should be his downfall and - "

His pep talk faded as they walked away. Jack stopped for a second and looked at her and she was pinned in her spot by the weight of his gaze.

"Ten minutes until they announce," Jerry said and she startled at the words. His trainer's pep talk, its implications sat heavy in her stomach making her sick. Jack's trainer continued speaking to him while helping him put on his thin black gloves. They had a pitiful amount of padding over the knuckles and looked more like mittens with the tops cut off. Involuntarily she came closer, something in her protesting this, objecting to the idea even if she knew it was futile to hope to stop it.

"Let's go, doll," Jerry said and she rounded on him.

"How dangerous is the match? Is this other guy very good?"

"Ah, I haven't seen him. Grant did. I think Jack is better than most, but you can never know 'cause there's lots of money riding on this. Anyway, they're going twelve rounds in this one. But Jack's matches rarely go that long."

They were walking away and Jerry subtly nudged her when they passed by another fighter in shorts. It must be Carson. He was nothing like I had imagined he would be. He was built up much like Jack, only a little shorter. His skin was darker than Jack's tanned one and he had jet-black hair pulled into a ponytail. His black shorts were identical to Jack s. He looked really sweet actually and she had to do a double take. His facial features were boyish and soft. Jerry pulled her along with him and Kim had to think quick.

"Jerry, listen, I have nowhere to wait. You were on a bike and I don't want to stay outside with those bouncers or worse," she made her best pleading face, making her eyes big and pouting a little. She could see that she got Jerry, because he stopped to think. "I know we promised Jack that I'm not gonna watch the fight and I won't! But can I stay here? We can wait here together, just to be safe."

He struggled a little, looking back to the ring and forward to the entrance, "I guess, we can. But Jack's gonna be mad."

"Jack said he can't concentrate with me here. If he doesn't see me, he'd be fine. Right?"

Jerry nodded and they waded back, closer to the bleachers. There were men standing everywhere, packed into the room trying to see what was going on. They all held similar pink slips of paper, which she assumed was proof of whoever they bet on. Suddenly, her stomach heaved and she felt sick. All these people were trying to make a dime off of Jack 's pain. All these people didn't care about what happens to him after the fight. They only want one thing: entertainment and thrill of the win.

A man in a sharp, finely made, suit was walking in and people gave him a large berth. A strikingly gorgeous woman in a red dress was sidled up next to him. She looked bored and had a self-absorbed air about her. They sat down in the front row.

 _He must be the big time sponsor._

Before she could study him for much longer the bell dinged signaling the third round (has it been this long already?)* and her eyes snapped to Jack's predatory frame. She couldn't move, she could barely breathe. She clutched her fists to the chest and watched as he took to the mat. Carson came forward and they bumped fists. Carson smiled and the sickness in her stomach grew ten fold.

They started off bouncing and circling each other. The four minute round lasted forever and two minutes into it, neither of them had yet to land a hit. Jack made first contact and delivered a right jab to Carson's face. Carson sneered at him and they continued their circling. In an instant, everything just snapped and they were throwing wild punches at each other. They were kicking and swinging and dodging. She couldn't keep up. When the round ended, Jack was pulled back by Grant. Ty snatched at Carson, forcing him to retreat to his corner. Grant handed Jack his water bottle and he took poured it over his face and head before standing again and focusing on Carson.

Inside the room, there was wild cheering, yelling, screaming and aimless chatter. Somehow out of the abyss of it all, she heard someone say 'what the fuck, Truman!' and she looked around to find who spoke it. That name was awfully familiar…

Chase Truman stood only twelve feet from her talking with a dark haired man. She frowned and eased back closer to them.

"Why didn't you do it? All you had to do was replace his water," asked the dark haired man. He had a slight accent and he sounded annoyed.

"I was intercepted. I can barely breathe, the guy was insane and aimed for ribs! I think it was one of Jack's guys. He is equally brutish, so it makes sense they are friends," Chase's voice was dripping with contempt. "I mean, I thought Carson was supposed to be better than Jack. I didn't think he'd need this shit to win."

"That's because Carson doesn't know it's going down. Well, he sort of knows. He knows there's a possibility of it happening. Amato is the one who wanted it done. He has too much money riding on Carson to chance him losing."

There was silence and then, "So what does that stuff do to you anyway?"

"It's ummm…. well it's like a barbiturate infused with some other stuff. Basically, it's to fuck him up and make him crash."

"Shit! Could this stuff kill him? Damn! Now I'm glad I didn't succeed," Chase groused and looked from ring to his companion. "Doesn't this seem kinda low though?"

"Well, it doesn't matter now, thanks to you, you fucking pussy. Let's just hope that Carson can win, or someone's gonna be in trouble."

Kim didn't need to hear anymore, she had heard enough. She looked up to see the Ring Girl coming off the ring with a sign signaling the fourth round was starting and Jack standing up to get back in the match.

She sidled back to Jerry and elbowed him hard to get his attention. Quickly she pointed behind her and once she heard 'me cago la hostia,'* she figured that he saw Chase. He grabbed her hand and dragged her to the front again, getting closer to the ring, but making sure they were obscured. They stood very close and Jerry crouched down to her level.

"I want you to tell me _exactly_ what you heard. Leave _nothing_ out."

"Chase was talking to another man in the back of the room. He said he failed to replace Jack's water with something that would have made him go down. Like drugs, barbiturates or something."

Jerry's body froze momentarily, and then began shaking as he muttered a curse into her hair, "Go on."

"Um… well, I heard someone saying 'what the fuck, Truman' and we just talked about him, so I looked. It was him and he was taking to a dark haired guy in the back, who asked him if he had done what he was told. Chase said he didn't cause he got intercepted by you. He sneered that Carson doesn't need because he is better. Then the other guy got pissed off, saying that it was how Amato wanted it. Too much money was bet on Carson. Oh and he said that Carson may or may not have known about the whole thing."

"Ok, stay here, Kim. I'll be back."

He darted to the front and weaved his way to Grant's side. The moment the gong went off, Jack was pulled to the corner and the three of them spoke quickly to each other. She saw the moment Jack got the news, because he dropped his water bottle on instinct. He looked at Jerry with hard eyes and something went down, because then Jack looked to the crowd as if to spot Chase and she hid herself away. Whatever she expected - him being distracted or him being shocked by the sabotage - it didn't happen. Instead, she saw him get angry. It was just like the time when he beat Jim up. His frame almost visibly expanded and his muscles stood in sharp relief; his eyes grew harder as he narrowed them on his opponent; and his expression went blank in the most terrifying transformations that Kim ever witnessed.

The next round - four minutes only! - could only be described as the total annihilation. She thought she saw Jack mad before, when Jim accidentally stumbled into her, but this was so much worse. Jim at least wore his uniform with breast plates and had a helmet on. Carson was not so lucky. Every move he tried was countered and converted, they moved so fast, sometimes Kim only saw a blur of movement and hard 'fleshy' sounds of impact that made her skin crawl and nausea to rise. Jack was both mesmerizing, striking like a predator he was - vicious and deadly - and terrifying at the same time. It was almost too violent, too gory. It was as if he reveled in the destruction and his body unerringly searched for the next weak spot. He was a fine-tuned weapon, or an incarnation of an ancient warrior, and it was the scariest thing ever.

How was anyone supposed to relate to him? To deal with him?

 _You did just fine earlier, Bambola_ , her mind supplied and she flushed remembering the kiss.

The gong went off and Jack stepped back, chest heaving and sweat covering him.

Carson swayed on his feet, body listing to the side. Her eyes raked over his body and she noticed the redness and swelling coming from his ribs and arms. His cheekbone was swelling and his left eye was puffy, his lower lip was bloody and red. He looked exhausted, disoriented and she felt like a strong wind would knock him over. 'Towel, towel' was heard all around her and she realized that some in the audience thought he was done for. _Yes,_ he needed to throw in the towel. Kim didn't think she could watch another demonstration of just how deadly Jack could be.

It was obvious that Jack and Grant thought so too as they waited for Carson to either fall or his trainer to throw in the towel. Instead, Carson was pulled to his corner, where Ty was arguing with the sharply dressed man. Amato. It was him, checking on his investment. Revulsion rose in Kim and she looked on with equal part hatred and curiosity. Heated exchange, with raised hands and narrowed eyes, ensued and at some point Amato looked directly at Jack with cold and calculating eyes. Jack didn't bother hiding his own disdain and the two men were locked in the heavy stare match. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Amato said something and Ty had a defeated expression on his face. They stood shoulder to shoulder and she didn't see what they'd done, but when they stepped away Carson looked a little more lucid and steady. Clearly, the match would go on.

Kim didn't want to see anymore. This fighting was so ferocious and savage, part of her - the refined musician and artist - cringed and wanted to hide away. Another part of her thrilled viscerally to see the guy she had somehow couldn't ignore triumph in a very primal way.

Carson, riding on whatever pep talk he got from his team, sprang into action the moment the gong went off and while it looked like he was pressing advantage from the sheer speed of his punches and kicks, Kim quickly realized that he was too uncoordinated and hardly any of his attempted hits landed on Jack. It was obvious that Jack was simply letting Carson exhaust himself, his style was now more of a dancing away from the action than actively returning the fight. She wondered how he could be like two different people in span of minutes, but then recalled his behavior with her: he threatened Brett in one minute and kissed her gently in the next.

At some moment, when Jack decided that Carson was done, he simply planted himself firmly and delivered one mighty cross blow to Carson's face that send his head to the side and his entire body followed. When he landed on the floor, the trickle of blood from his nose joined a a bloody spittle from his mouth and he did not get up. He was done. Kim watched as the referee gave the count-down and the crowd around her went wild. It seemed that Jack was an underdog in terms of the bets and the crowd was reacting to their unexpected wins and losses.

Kim could only look at Jack. He stood calmly in the face of the rousing noise and the crowd's insane reactions. He looked at Carson in a detached manner, like he didn't just knock out the man unconscious after the brutal beat-down. He looked frighteningly dangerous.

She had to get out.

She made it outside before retching against the wall. The same bouncers, who made her uncomfortable earlier, looked with surprising sympathy and one of them gave her a bottle of water. She gratefully took it, feeling emotionally numb and exhausted. The best thing to do would be to leave and forget about Jack and his complicated life. But as soon as she thought it, Grace's words (I don't think he'd let go that easily) came to taunt her. She didn't think she had much choice in the matter any more.

Jerry had inadvertently let it slip that she meant a lot more to Jack than simple gratitude and a possible hook-up.

 _Are you gonna break his heart now?_

She wanted to scream that she absolutely had no power to break anyone's heart, but especially someone like Jack.

 _I didn't ask for any of this_ , she thought. And yet she came to mean something to this man and it was a staggering realization.

A/N: Do you think Kim's emotional confusion is believable? Jack is so out of the norm for her and she is afraid and attracted at the same time. If you noticed, Jack - reluctant as he is - has been the one to initiate most of their contact. In this instance, Jerry dragged her to the match and, aside from returning kisses, Kim hasn't really verbalized to Jack her interest.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Guys, your comments and reviews are everything. I can't thank you enough for reading this story.

I debated putting their conversation in the next chapter, but you waited so long for this and I wanted to resolve the underlying romantic tension. The next chapter would probably be a little choppy, because I need to move the plot along.

* * *

To say that Jack was angry was a huge understatement. He missed the connection between Truman and Amato. Arguably, Milton was a little at fault too, but Jack was madder with himself. He somehow decided that the little trust fund boy wouldn't be a trouble. He should have realized that just as he was consumed with revenge, so could be other people. And Chase Truman was a perfect fit. He was mad at Jack and he had expensive habits that got him from the straight and narrow into a shadowy world. Somehow Amato and Chase connected and, while he was grateful that their plans failed, he wasn't so cocky as to think of it as anything other than dumb luck.

And he certainly didn't trust that Chase was just flirting with Kim and her friend, without any other goals in mind. Too coincidental and he viewed them with suspicion. A part of him, old Jack who was raised by his parents, wanted to save Kim from ever being part of this and he was mad as hell as himself for his weakness. But a larger part of him that knew how it was to feel warm and so connected to a person didn't want to let go of her. She was his now. He wouldn't part from her.

The news of attempted drugging was a last catalyst that fused all his frustration and uncertainties into furious desire to end this match, to show up Amato and Ty, and ultimately get out of the ring and get to Kim. Carson wasn't nearly as vicious as Jack was and it took one round to thoroughly exhaust him. One more round, which Jack thought Carson should have conceded, and Carson was lying on the ground.

He couldn't even relax and find Kim. He had to find Truman and get him to tell the details on Amato and his plans. He hoped it was limited to the underground matches only. Because if it was the alternative... Fear seized him at the thought. Truman might lead them to Kim...

Ice slithered through his veins. For a moment, briefly, he considered fighting it, but as Grant shook hands with reluctant Ty, he could feel the numb and angry part of him, the Drago, identifying and weighing each of the potential ways of getting Bambola out and getting to Truman before Amato did. Something clicked within him and the familiar sensation struck him.

Drago had a mission – it just expanded to include the wellbeing of Bambola.

The fear, sticky and incapacitating, which had been tightening around his chest suddenly loosened and he sucked in air as understanding flared in his mind. He no longer wanted to avoid a relationship with Kim… he wanted to be with her. He somehow needed that light and peacefulness, her brilliance, and yes, her gorgeous face and figure. Even if she didn't want him, he'd still be grateful for her warmth and he'd want to keep her safe.

To Drago, the warmth and tenderness were unnecessary. The cold calculation required to do his mission meant such emotions were nothing more than a mere intellectual exercise. But Jack was part of him and Kim was important to Jack, so she became part of the mission.

Yes, the Drago would scoff at any emotion that was a weakness, something to be exploited and used when undermining a target. It had no place in Drago's life. But Jack, though… Jack reached for connection, he wanted those emotions in his life. It should have made him weak – weaker than he already was – and yet…

Those same emotions evoked something dark in Drago, something feral, primitive. Instead of fighting those feelings, Drago used them, fed on their energy and felt the clarity of mission take control. The deeper and primal part of Drago, that Jack would have otherwise pushed aside, were something that he could take and use as he would any other tool that came to hand.

He changed into his street clothes and ignored Grant, who talked something about the prize. He texted Milton to check Truman for any possible connections to Amato and stepped out to find Jerry, who should have been with Bambola.

"J-dog, I need to talk to Bambola, but I also need to talk to Truman myself. Follow him, have Milton track him if necessary and let me know if Amato's coming for him."

"Cool. Will do. Need me to talk to him?"

"Only if he tries to leave. Otherwise, no. Stay clear."

Now he needed to talk to the girl, who so thoroughly invaded his mind and soul.

* * *

Kim was found by Jack, whose face looked so implacable and forbidding that she kept quiet. They drove home in silence. She was scared, frustrated, irritated, and doubting everything. She felt inexplicably connected to Jack, whose presence made her feel like her every cell came alive and _that_ scared her. She wanted that feeling. But she was also terrified of him, of what he was capable of, and, more importantly, that she somehow meant something to him, that he was now part of her life and wouldn't let go. All her idealistic, and naive notions, were in such contrast to how he lived that she wasn't sure she'd be herself if she were with him.

Her parents were out of the house, which he somehow knew, and simply followed her to her room, still silent and on edge.

She bit her own irritation, because he was tense, like a coiled spring. Once they were in her room, he stalked close to her and buried his hands in her hair, pulling her close for a tight hug. She felt him relax into their embrace and she was once again floored by the notion that she could have such a profound effect on him. _Why? Why her?_

She must have said it out loud because Jack pulled back and looked at her face searchingly.

"What do you mean, Bambola?"

"Why are you here? Why are you here with _me?_ Who am I to you? What are we doing?"

He gave a humorless chuckle. "Why am I here? Because I want to. Why am I with you? Because you are you."

"And what are you? Who are you? Every time I see you, you are either bleeding or unconscious or violent and beating other people up! And in my name!"

"You know who I am. You know what I do."

"I know just one part of you! I know that you are fighter. And underground one. But I also know that you go to school! I know that you must have somebody you live with unless... Are you emancipated?"

"I'm legally an adult. I am over 18 years old and I do live with my guardians... Listen, is this what you want to talk about? Why are you asking me this?"

"Yes! … No … I don't know. I want to know everything about you, but also, I want to know... Why are you here with me? You can have any girl you want! You can have Bianca!"

His face showed a confusion which slowly morphed into frustration. "Bianca? Why are you asking me about Bianca?"

"Why is she texting you about 'that night?'"

He scowled, "You saw that?" When she only nodded, he continued, "She's no one. She means nothing."

"Obviously, it meant something to her."

"Kim! I'll say it again, she means nothing."

"How often do you say this to girls?"

His jaw was clenched so hard she could see the muscles in face and down his neck move beneath his skin. It turned her on in ways that it shouldn't have. She started to wonder if she was a masochist. She started to wonder if she cared.

"Never. I don't talk to them again," his eyes conveyed the message well enough.

Kim wasn't sure what to say to that. He just admitted that he had slept with multiple girls without intending anything more. So he only used them. Her head spun a little.

"Why are you here J-man?" She said quietly and tried to ignore how hot his hands are against her.

She didn't realize her mistake until he bared his teeth and hissed, "I told you my name."

She cringed inwardly but remained uncaring outside. "Answer me!" she asked. "Why did Jerry bring me there? Why do you keep coming back, when you have girls by a handful?

His hips pressed her into the wall so that she could feel his strong abdomen against her own body. "Because somehow you are mine now. Because I am tired of fighting it. Because I wanna break people's hands if they touch you," he breathed into her ear and nibbled her skin. "Because you are mine. Because you're stuck in my head and under my skin, like a splinter."

She gulped and gripped his shoulders firmly. His words took the fight out of her. She meant so much to him. She wasn't sure what to do with this information. It was scary and extremely exciting at the same time. He's words stripped her of her pride. She looked at him, mesmerized. His dark eyes, intense and laser focused on her. Whatever he saw in her face, it must have been enough, because he started trailing kisses down her neck and her collarbone before he slid he's hot tongue up her throat and over her chin where he paused at her lips.

"Open your mouth," he whispered.

She pressed her lips together.

"No?" he chuckled and released her hips to bring his hands up to her face. "That's fine, baby," he hummed right before he bit her lower lip and it made her gasp, which was enough for him as his mouth dove over hers so that his tongue plunged inside.

She gasped and moaned, and her knees gave out. His hips were pressed against her so tight that she didn't need legs to hold her up. His hands slid down her sides and gripped her butt so that he could lift her up off the ground and wrapped her legs around his waist. Kim gasped again at the move and circled arms around his neck to pull him in closer.

He paused and pulled back slightly to stare down at her with clouded eyes. She could tell he had something on his mind that he wanted to talk about, but the kiss was so good she didn't want it stop.

They made out until her lips were raw and, though he did not put his hands under her clothes, he had explored her body all over and Kim could scarcely believe her own behavior. He was quite obviously well-versed in sex and she was, also quite obviously, not. It was when his agile hand slipped between her thighs and she veritably squeaked that he cursed and stepped away from her. She was beyond embarrassed and blushed deeply, only to hear him apologize to her.

"L'ho completamente scordato, cazzo,"* he seemingly collected himself and switched to English, while still not facing her. "Sorry, I got ahead of myself. I promise I didn't come here just to maul you, like a perv."

Kim was just regaining her bearings and peeked at him, her own mortification lifting, "Ok, I think I forgot myself too. That was-" She trailed off, once again blushing.

"Too much, right? I am sorry-"

"No. I was gonna say that it was... intense and hot and nothing like I-" this time she shut up because of the dark look on his face.

"Nothing like you've done before. Right. Of course, you dated."

"And you had other girls and I am really not here for your-"

He took one large step towards her and was now looming over her. Kim was getting the idea that that he has gone through some trauma (gone parents and violence used as all-purpose stain remover for all his problems) and lost a lot of his social programming as a result of dealing with shady world of fighting, but—was the looming necessary? Did he really need to curl over her and emphasize that he had shoulders the size of Kim's closet doors? Kim had eyes. She could see them.

But then he cradled her face in his large hands, "I said I am sorry. You're right, I shouldn't comment on your past, but I can't exactly be cool with you having it. It's not like I have full control over it," he looked torn between possessive jealousy and trying to be decent. She recalled her own irrational jealousy over Bianca and other unnamed girls and understood him a little.

"If it helps you any, none of my previous kisses were anywhere near yours."

"I am not sure that it does, so maybe we can stop talking about it?" he said with gritted teeth and she would have laughed, if it was any other guy. But with Jack, she imagined he didn't like to show his weaknesses.

"Fine, what do you want to talk about?"

He sighed deeply, "Well, I was gonna say that you shouldn't be with me. The life I live, it doesn't have a place for someone like you in it."

Kim's heart thudded painfully even if she somewhat agreed with him, "Ok, so we forget this happened and go our separate lives."

And this would be the right thing to do. He was... messed up. She didn't know the full story but what she saw, it was not pretty, or safe. And who knew, maybe he always was going to be messed up. He might never be fine enough to deal with a 'normal' relationship. And Kim was inexperienced, but she wasn't delusional.

He scared her. Didn't he? He broke bones, on purpose, and nearly incapacitated Jim and fought who knows how many people because he thought he was protecting her. And he gave no sign of remorse, or concern over whether those people were alright. His entire manner during the brawl, and especially during the match, spoke of an icy cold professionalism, which was true enough. So, yes, he scared her. Maybe…?

His hands remained gentle, as he slowly combed her hair away to tuck behind ears. She realized that even now he moved to put himself between her and a window as if there was a potential threat. He was protecting her even now. And earlier, at the match, he all but begged her to leave because he wanted her safe and didn't want her to see him like that. How was she supposed to fear a guy like that?

Confusion tumbled her thoughts as she tried to decide how she felt about the whole situation.

"It would be right by you, but... I can't seem to let go of you and its worse when I try to fight it. The decent man in me wants you to live your life as you should, but the rest of me wants to be there with you, to protect you, to break hands of people who touched you..."

She looked at him carefully, his struggle obvious to her. Like she herself saw it already, he had different parts of him. The gentle guy, who kissed her and held tenderly and wanted the best for her, even if it meant being without her. And the fighter she met first, who was possessive and dangerous and physically demanding. But, somehow Jack seemed to reach the understanding. Two personalities, one body…and both seemed to have reached a decision.

In that moment, she realized that Jack struggled with his shadows, with the demons and memories of things done when he was a fighter. What understanding had they reached to settle Jack so much?

"So?" she prompted when he lapsed into silence, still stroking her hair with unbearable gentleness.

"I... I have to live my life without confusion and complications and being efficient is all I know," Jack explained. "People…they fit into categories for me." A look of frustration slipped onto his face before he continued. "It's…it's the way I was trained- raised... On one side, there are allies and of those I only have three, the ones who do the work. On another side are the others – either enemies or…well, people who are potential leverage point or to take pleasure from."

She drew in a sharp breath. "God, that's awful."

He made a choking sound, something sorrowful, but his eyes lightened at her words, "Well, you should think so, but it worked for me," he managed. "And you don't fit into either category, but... you took care of me. Several times. I- You should be in the ally category or be a friend, but I- I don't want just that."

"And what do you want?"

"I want you. I want to feel warm. I want to feel the peace I feel with you. I- You are important already and staying away from you is not going to change that. But..." he spoke quietly and stopped, which made Kim hold her breath. "I wasn't kidding when I said that you are mine now and the only one who can change that is you. So, this is me giving you a chance to say no and then- then I won't bother you again."

She considered him and his words. She really should listen to her mind that screamed that this was a bad idea, but somehow, she felt helpless against this feeling of being connected to Jack in ways that she hadn't experienced before.

"Will I be safe? I mean, Jerry and you made it sound like it was dangerous for me already-"

"You will be safe," he said fiercely, his face hardened and determined.

"Does it mean that you'd be watching over me, just from the distance?"

"I have done so already," he said matter-of-factly and she knew it to be the truth, because she did feel like he was watching over her.

"You realize that you sound creepy. This whole thing between us is so strange and I should-"

He cradled her cheek and pulled her face up, _"This_ started the moment I saw you on that road, as out of it as I was, Kim, and we both know it," he said forcefully, his face so close she could feel his breaths on her face. "You were marked the moment I came back for you and I knew the kind of danger it would be. I am that danger. But there is no man on earth who would fight for you the way I would. Your answer right now will not change a thing for me."

"Why?" she stuttered, her heart beating in a dangerous way, mesmerized by his darkened irises.

"Because," he whispered, "there is no other would do to keep you safe that I would do."

Her breath faltered. He looked deeply at her, his expression intense, firing her blood.

"I have been yours the moment you used your hands to save me and your scarf to wrap the wounds. I kept coming back because for the first time in a while, I saw some light and felt warm. So, you may decide that you don't want any of _this_. But I am not going anywhere. Because I want you safe."

"I am safe," she whispered.

"I am not going to take chances."

She closed her eyes, biting her lip. "You can't keep beating people up for me."

"It's a far better reason that any other I've had."

Her eyes opened at that, and she looked at him, conflicted. He was everything she had been warned against. Dark, dangerous, possessive, controlling, jealous. Yet, she wanted to be nowhere more than where she was. And she could hardly understand it herself.

He was looking down at her with those gorgeous eyes. Like he hadn't smothered her heart with those words. She was just a normal human with a heart.

He leaned down, hesitating, before pressing his soft lips to hers. Her mouth trembled but she pressed her lips back, letting him taste her lip, tasting his, softly.

He pulled back within seconds.

"Don't talk about ending _this_ , Kim. Please," his voice shook on the last word and that convinced her to stay.

"What is _this_?" she asked on a whisper.

He stayed silent for a long minute, thinking, before his lips curled, just a little. "This is us."

Why? Why did he have to say things like that and completely slay her?

Her heart trembled in her chest as her mouth trembled, looking up at him.

"I have a lot of questions," she felt like she plunged off the cliff with those words.

His eyes closed at her assent, and he took a step back, allowing her to move away from the wall. She walked over to her bed, looking back at him as he followed her.

"I will answer all that I can."

"Will you be honest about them?"

"Yes."

Just one word. But such an important word. She didn't know what _this_ was. But she wanted to be part of it.

"I wasn't kidding about resorting to violence for my sake," she held onto the image of the poor Jim and Randy's hand in cast as she said those words.

"And if it is necessary for your protection?" he asked just as seriously and she wondered if she had entirely lost her mind.

"A compromise then. I would defer to you on issues of my security," she saw the tiny quirk of mouth and quickly followed on. "But if it's jealousy, you talk to me. If it's some random school prank or an insult, you will not do anything and let me handle it."

He was obviously conflicted, but she held her gaze on him steady and he finally nodded.

She released a breath she held, "Do I need to get my first aid?" she said to him and he smiled at her. It was a smallest and briefest smile, but it was there and it was for her.

She was so deep in _this_ already...

*L'ho completamente scordato, cazzo (Italian) - I completely forgot, damn it!

A/N: How did you like it? I am freaking out a little thinking it was a let down. Do you think Kim should have resisted more?


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. It makes the already wonderful process of writing that much more meaningful.

As amazing as this break-through was for them, he needed to go. He hated to leave her now, when she was finally letting go of her reluctance and anxiety, but Jerry already texted him twice and he suspected he was running out of time. He needed to talk to Truman and figure out the connections between Amato and Truman and, possibly, other players.

He checked his phone while Kim grabbed drinks for them. When she was back and saw him putting away the phone her face clouded in disappointment.

"You have to go, no?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry, but I need to talk to Truman. I need to know how he's connected to Amato and what he knows about you, if anything."

He saw her eyes light up with understanding, "Just... Make sure you're not caught and, like, don't do anything that could get your arrested, please. I know it is important and involves your and my security, and I promised you to defer to you, but…"

Her face was a mixture of conflicted emotions: resignation, compassion, fear, and sympathy. She was worried about his methods: not just because he could get caught, but because she opposed to inflicting pain on people. He was staggered again by her general innocence and humanity. But then, wasn't it why he was so attracted to her?

He could feel Jack, his mother's son and a boy who just kissed Kim senseless, agreeing with her. And yet it seemed fairly simple to Drago – get to Truman, get answers, make sure she was not in danger. He would not stray from his goal and his two objectives seem to intertwine for once.

So, what if he had to break a rule or break a bone? Did Truman really deserve any mercy? His automatic response – there was no such thing in his world – felt wrong somehow. It was the answer that was true in the world that his parents escaped, but he knew his friends saw things differently. More importantly – Kim saw things differently. If there was innocence, she had it. And no one would give her any mercy, but she... She probably would still try. So, maybe he would try to - unless it interfered with his goals.

So agreed, his two selves didn't war with each other and he set off with oneness of mind that was startling in its clarity.

"I'll be careful. Don't worry," he squeezed her hand and then asked her, unsure. "I probably would be out late tonight and I still owe you answers to your questions. Do you- Can I- I know you have practice tomorrow, so can I come by tomorrow evening? To talk," he added and wondered if being in relationship was always this awkward or was it just him, being unused to it all.

She beamed at him, momentarily scrambling his brain, "Yes, of course, it's fine. And- Just let me know tonight, when you're done, that you're ok?"

He kissed her then, because it was an incredible feeling to have her worried about him.

Thanks to Jerry he knew just where to look for Truman. He was at his house, coked up and fidgety. Milton's genius bug allowed him to have eyes inside by tapping into the home security system. There was a girl with him, equally messed up and had his dick half way down her throat. Jack burst through the door and pulled her off by the hair and told her to get lost. She was high, but not stupid, and ran with a dress in hand.

Truman, now pulling pants up, sneered at Jack, "Didn't realize you knew how to use words. Thought it was beyond your 'special needs' education level."

Jack moved fast and grabbed his throat, making Truman instinctively pull at that hand, while Jack used his other hand to drag the zipper up, catching Truman's dick in the teeth of the fly. The yowl that came out of Truman was not entirely human. His entire body froze and tears welled in his eyes.

"You were saying?' Jack said casually and enjoyed the wheezing noises and bugged eyes of the other guy. "Doesn't matter. I need to know why Amato needed me to lose so badly?"

He relaxed his hold on Truman's throat and let go of the zipper. When he saw the other guy's balled hand, he casually slipped a blade into his hand and let the tip rest close to the family jewels, "I wouldn't do it. My hand might slip."

Truman's face was twisted in half fear, half hatred and his next words were spit with as much gusto as he could muster, considering Jack's one hand was still pressing into his windpipe.

"I hate you, you psycho fucker. Only psychos are supposed to be smart. You - not so much. This house is choke full of surveillance, so is the outside. You are on camera, dude. Get ready for jail time. I hear young fresh meat like you would get around a lot."

Jack pressed the tip of the blade harder and it pierced the fabric to dig into skin. Jack knew the feeling very well now. The knife cut through and the split second later Truman's pupils widened in fear and adrenal reaction.

"I took care of that already. The camera right now is showing you shooting up and enjoying a good ol' blowjob. Your mother is with a 'friend' and your father at the country club. Neither of them would be here anytime soon. You sent out the help yourself. So, really, I am quite sure, we won't be disturbed." He gave another squeeze and dug the blade deeper, "This is a fine and sharp knife. It will give you a thin, precise, but very deep cut. Where it is right now, it could either go to the jewels or femoral artery. One option would leave you a castrate, another - with a severe blood loss. So, talk."

Truman's face crumbled and Jack felt the resistance in him go slack. Still, Jack didn't relax and held his hands where they were.

"I don't know why it was important. I mean beyond the money-" Jack squeezed his throat harder and released. Truman's next words were pleading, "I really don't. All I know is that they knew you and I went to the same school. And I owed them some money - I mean they took my car! - and they said that if I spiked your water, then my debt would be gone! Please!"

This wasn't much, but at least he started talking. "How did they find out about where I went to school?"

This was important. Grant and Jack misstated Jack's age for a number of reasons, so why would anyone think he was at school?

"I don't know! They already knew. They said your name and asked if I knew you. I haven't even met Amato and he'd be mad at me too! Fuck! I should've stayed away from you! I got nothing but beat downs because of you. Your lackey is a psycho too!"

This was unexpectedly fortuitous opening - Truman brought up the earlier cafe encounter with Jerry, which Jack didn't mention because he didn't want to give away his interest. He released Truman's throat, but kept the blade where it was.

"Well, he has a mind of his own. I hope it was worth it, whatever you were doing to piss him off."

"Well, brunette is off limits now and the blonde... Too much of a good girl. Wouldn't know what to do with her mou-" his sentence ended in a scream as Jack dug the blade even deeper in. The idea of Truman, or anyone for that matter, discussing Bambola in such terms gave such sharp rise in possessive urge to cut tongues and gouge eyes that it gave him a whiplash.

Better step away from this or he might be able to refrain from doing something worse than just give Truman a cut and a scare.

There was a beep on his phone, and Jack removed the hand with a blade to check it.

"If I see, or hear, that you tried to meddle in my life again, I'll come back to finish the job. You hear me?" Truman nodded frantically and the snot and tears that covered his face were now dribbling down his chin and throat. "A word of advice, if you can't handle this life, you shouldn't have tried. That girl, by the way, is not eighteen yet."

Jack waited until he saw the realization dawn on Truman, "Yes, I see that you understand. If you talk, the tapes will talk. You gave a minor, an underage girl, drugs and had sex with her. Do you own math and stay. away. from. me."

He put away the blade and left the sniveling boy on the floor. The information he gathered was meager, but enough to worry him. It would appear that Amato had tabs on Jack for a while to learn about him and how to get to him. There was only one good thing in this mess: they haven't learned yet about Bambola.

* * *

His next stop was to check with Jerry and Milton. His friend was apologizing even before Jack settled in his customary chair, but Jack simply waved him off. He missed the connection as well.

"Milton, I think we need to expand our search. Truman's words suggest that they specifically targeted him because they knew he and I went to the same school." Milton looked up sharply and Jack nodded, "Yes, you need to be extra careful now. They know I live with your family, so you are a prime target. I know you oppose my methods, but I think you need to start carrying a piece on you." Milton was frowning, but Jack was serious," I'd move out, but since they already know - it's better if I stay with you, just in case. Let's beef up the monitoring around your house and have at least some form of weapon on you. Also, do you think we can arrange some sort of contest for your parents to 'win' so they'll travel for a couple of weeks? Money's not an issue."

Milton nodded and went about typing on the keyboard, "Ok, I can do that. I will check Truman's dad records as well. I doubt he would have been so cavalier about the lost car, unless he knew something or was under pressure himself."

Jerry looked at Jack and said, "I know you already spoke to him, but Amato and his people would wanna do the same. Do you want eyes on that?"

"No. Well, I would love too, but there are only three of us and this sort of surveillance is dangerous. Milton, you have the feed on Truman's house, right?"

"Yep, ever since you planted my little bug."

"Ok, let's get what we can on them when they come to pick up Truman for a conversation. And let's start looking at all of Amato's connections. They dabbled with drugs to dope me and that ambush was nearly professional. I say Amato has some ties to a gang here, locally."

Jerry piped in, "If it's a local crew, maybe they bet against you as well, if they knew about the fix?"

"Good idea. Let's check the betting records and see if any of our friends pop up."

Jerry was half-draped over armchair his face slightly dreamy.

"Jerry, Truman swears he was just hitting on Kim and her friend, but I want to make sure. So, would you check on the friend?"

Jerry smiled crookedly and nodded, "Be happy to. I take it that you'd keep tabs on Bambola yourself?"

Jack sighed, "You didn't do it on purpose, did you?"

"What? Assume that you had told her about your fighting? Or make an honest mistake and try to protect her? Which led to spectacular kissing and her finding out about the fix, by the way. No, I didn't do it on purpose, but if it moves things along for you and her, then you're welcome. It was almost impossible to deal with your angry and angsty ass these days."

"Please! As if I don't know that it was Grace, who was with Kim, and you interfered as much for your own benefit as for Kim's," Jack scolded his friend, but it was light-hearted.

"Well, sometimes you can kill two birds with one stone. I'm just a Swagmaster like that."

Jack smiled ruefully. Things were moving along, but he was not entirely sure it was a good thing. He hoped, really hoped, that the Amato-Truman debacle was just a local thing involving the underground fighting. He would have to start searching for connections between Amato and the Bruneri. He could not afford to relax now.

"Jerry, you realize that you put her in the crosshairs now? She'd be the target, on par with Milton and his family. Maybe, even more so..."

"And you have the tendency to exaggerate," Milton huffed. "If they already knew where you lived, they clearly decided not to touch myself or my parents. This tells me that their focus is solely you. And consider, to do anything to me, or my folks, or even Kim would invite way too much scrutiny and requires a level of investment in this that, frankly, is beyond just betting on some bloody matches."

"And if it is more than just the matches? It could be about what happened to my parents. They could be targeting me. Then attacking you or Kim makes a lot more sense."

"They had all this time to do so, Jack, and they haven't" Milton spoke quietly.

"Still, what about our side operations?"

"Well concealed and before you say anything else, let me ask you this: are you going to stay away from her?"

Jack's smile at recalling his conversation with Kim was answer enough.

"I thought so," his friend finished with a sigh. "In that case, it might as well be known that you are with her. You, by far, the best protection she could have. People, who fix matches, they know what you are like. They'd think twice before going after her. And even if somehow people connect you to all the havoc we've been wrecking on the streets, then your reputation would only grow stronger. You won't be just a guy with fighting skills and a temper. You'd be the guy, who knows how, and isn't afraid to, use cold weapons and firearms. To go after Kim would mean crossing Jack Brewer and the leader of the new crew in town. You might as well benefit from that rumor."

Milton had a point.

And the same went for the people, who targeted his family. Though neither his friends nor the police knew for sure, those two dead bodies in their house could have been Jack's doing. He came home early enough to engage the assailants together with his dad.

Jack shook the memories out of his head. Now was not the time to relive that particular nightmare.

He lost his loved ones once, he wasn't going to let it happen again.

A/N: This was the loose end from the match and I wanted to wrap it up. I also wanted to show that Jack is still the same BAMF, even if he is softening a little. Next chapter would be more of Kick talking and being a new couple.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Thank you for reviewing and reading. And I am trying to balance them being a couple and moving the plot on Jack and his complicated life.

A/N2: I rushed and didn't quite proof-read everything.

* * *

Grace was beyond curious and Kim obliged her friend. She felt very generous at the moment, the decision to be with Jack settled some of her anxiety and she was more at peace with herself and the world. He called her last night, confirming that Truman seemingly knew nothing of her and that he, Jack, didn't do anything particularly objectionable. She wanted to interrogate him more, but she didn't push her luck. It was clear that Jack was unused to being held accountable and, she guessed, never dated before, so she only asked whether he was injured in any way. Jack's voice got gentler in response and she realized that he was unused to that too: to someone being vocally concerned about him. Her heart ached for him at that and they ended the call with the sort of nonsensical banter about how hardy he was and whether her homeopathic suggestions were any good.

Next day after the practice, she met with Grace again and her friend pounced on her the moment they sat down at the table.

"Who was that? I know he is connected to Dragon, but do you know his name?" Grace wasn't even trying to be subtle.

"His name is Jerry and he is friends with Jack."

Grace's eyes widened, "So, now you know his name. Does it mean-?"

"Yes," Kim exhaled the truth finally. "Jack and I are together. Dating. I think."

"You think?"

"Well, we only just talked and I'm not sure he even dated before-"

"Excuse me? A guy like that and didn't date before?" Grace was skeptical.

"He doesn't date, apparently. Well, he didn't. He's more 'this was fun, but will never happen again' type of guy," Kim raised her eyebrows to convey the rest of the message.

"Oh... Are they all like that? Him and his friends, that is?"

"I don't know. In fact, I know very little still. Jack and I have yet to talk or go on a date, so-"

"Well, you must know something. I mean, yesterday you were taken to him, right?"

Kim hesitated to answer the obvious question. She wasn't sure if Jack would be fine with her sharing the truth about his other life as an underground fighter. It was illegal and apparently could be dangerous to people, who were connected to the fighters. Jack and Jerry both were worried about Truman had his too coincidental run-in with her. That actually made her think about how safe Grace would be. Jack said that Truman didn't know about her, but if they were to date - openly - wouldn't it make things more dangerous to her and, by association, her friend?

Suddenly, she realized how Jack must have felt all this time.

"He had something going on yesterday. And apparently the guy from the café , who we met yesterday, Chase, he and Jack don't get along. Some really major issues between them and Jerry, when he saw us yesterday with Chase, he was worried that Truman was trying something with me to get to Jack," she said it all with a lot of pauses to avoid revealing any details and winced on the inside, because she sounded kind of wishy-washy.

"Oh, right. They are in school together," Grace didn't seem to mind her elusiveness. "So, you can't tell me what it was that Jack and Jerry were doing yesterday, but Chase is bad news, huh?"

"Yes and yes."

"I bet whatever it is, it's why Jack is so Mr. Kicky-kicky-chop-chop," Grace mused. "Are you ok with him being all 'hit first, ask questions later'? I remember you weren't so cool about it."

"I got him to agree to keep his temper when it comes to me. I mean, I still don't know his life..." Kim was truthful and she spent the night wondering about his harsh life with dead parents and constant training and fighting. Her natural compassion for him was overflowing and, in light of their understanding, she was more that a little moved by his plight.

"Wow... Look at you. You really do like him, eh?" Grace said gently and Kim blushed at being so transparent. "When will you see him again?"

"Tonight."

"Well, then. Let's get ready."

Sometimes Kim was very, very grateful for Grace and her unwavering support. Together they shopped a little, but ended up at Kim's place, curling hair and deciding what Kim should wear.

* * *

Jack stayed busy the next day too, him and Milton combing through information on Amato and the betting. It was a lot of work and soon they split up with Milton following up on bets and cross-referencing names against people they've dealt with so far. Jack himself traced Amato's finances and it was what kept him busy for most of they day. When he knew Kim shoudl be home, he only was able to put another hour of work, before his concentration was hopelessly lost.

So, he called ahead and they agreed that they'd meet at the ice-cream parlor not far from her home. It was small, but they escaped to his Audi, which was what he drove most of the time, to finally talk.

Jack gave Kim the edited version of his life story. He explained that his father's past was checkered at best and that it was the reason for his unusual life. He left out parts about his father and himself ending anyone's life, but he did mention the home invasions and life on the run; constant training and the harsh realities of letting few people close and trusting no one. To say that she was shocked would be an understatement. He could feel her empathy and desire to comfort in the air, as if she was beaming it with her entire being, like the body warmth. They were sitting int he driver's and passenger seats and she stretched over the console to hug him and kiss his cheek. He wouldn't lie - it felt so good to have someone comfort him this way. For so long he was locking it all down and his friends and Grant knew not to touch him unless necessary. But Kim was unafraid and so genuine that her little hugs and kisses were like a warm blanket thrown over him. It was amazing and scary at the same time.

He finished his tale explaining to her his need to unleash some of his anger, which was why he was participating in the underground fighting. She was quiet at that part and he knew she was thinking deeply about something.

"What it is, Bambola?"

She lifted her head to look at him with a small smile, "How often you use Italian? Are you fluent?'

"I grew up with dad speaking it quite a bit and my mom understood it. I can't say I'd fully understand their textbooks or newspapers, but if you drop me in Italy, I'd get by."

"Can you say something more? I figured what Bambola was the first time you used it," she said shyly and blushed a little. "And why 'doll'?'

"Perché sei già bellissima.* Because when I saw you that first time on the side of the road, you looked almost unreal to me. Too pretty, like a doll. I thought I dreamt you up," now she definitely was blushing hard and he enjoyed it immensely.

"Grace, my friend, she called you Dragon, because of the tattoo," she said quietly and he stiffened a little, making her look up.

"My- my dad... He used to call me _drago,_ you know."

"Sorry- I didn't meant to-" He nodded at her and they sat quietly a little longer. "Do you think that person, who wanted Truman to spike your water, would try something again?"

Heartened by the obvious worry in her voice, he tried to lightened her mood, "It was a lot of effort that was ultimately for nothing. Amato would probably bet on me next time. And Ty and Carson... They are vicious fighters, but what Amato tried t do, it's frowned upon. If words gets out that they can't win without some sort of setup, their reputation would be in the trash. That is to say that I'm not too worried."

Of course, he left out the part about the revenge mission of his own. He knew his omission, if discovered, would cause enormous issues between them. However, this incessant instinct to protect her, which got the best of him so often already, had screamed at him to keep her away from the truly ugly part of his life. He figured his mission had two outcomes. Either he'd attempt his revenge and would go down in a blaze of suicidal glory, taking on the mob family. Or, he somehow succeeded and then his mission to make the Bruneri pay would be over and he could come to her and then only she would be his mission. Either way, she didn't need to worry about it now. It was enough that he had revealed so much already. The calculating part of him was afraid that if she knew all about him, the death that he dodged and the death that he sowed, she'd recoil in horror like in his nightmare and never look at him again. Like a selfish man he was, he didn't want to part from her, ever.

"I had thought that you were in the gang. You can't imagine how scared I was when I saw Jerry with a gun that night I found you."

It made him pause. He had to explain some of it to her, but he didn't want her to worry about him so much and he didn't want her to think he was a vigilante or something, "Well, since underground fighting is illegal, there is a lot of shady people and dirty money that's involved. We do get tangled up sometimes, but, no, we are not a gang or some drug pushers."

That seemed to settle her and Jack felt bad about withholding stuff from her, but, if he had any say about it, she'd never know about his involvement in the gang wars.

"I don't want you to go, but it's getting late and my parents would be blowing up my phone soon. And I'd rather you didn't meet my dad yet. He is a little protective and I don't want to add to you collection of bruises and scars, just because my father got enraged."

Jack hid his smirk: he doubted her dad could inflict much damage on him, but Kim was adorably flustered and he didn't want to cross paths with her pater familias just yet. He imagined her father, if he knew about Jack, object to their daughter having someone like him as a boyfriend. That was a startling though - _he was Kim's boyfriend._

"I am sorry I was busy this weekend. Don't start dating anyone just because I'm new to this boyfriend thing, ok?" he joked, but only a little.

She rolled her eyes and grumbled, "And have you break their hands? I think not."

"Good. Then we are in agreement. I can- I can pick you up in the morning and take you to school tomorrow? If you want."

"Don't you have your own school to go to?"

"Believe me, they won't be marking me tardy any time soon," he chuckled, imagining any of the school staff trying to rein him in. He was positive they were afraid of him, just as much as the students. And not just of what he was capable of physically, but because his personal lawyers, the ones handling his parent's estate and his business holdings now, were absolute sharks and the school knew it.

"Ok. And please, stay safe and don't die."

"Can't. I have a very hot date with this girl. Need to take her to school," she smiled and they kissed again, which ended up being another make-out session that left him uncomfortably turned on and her - with reddened lips.

* * *

Once Kim was home, Jack went back to his never-ending research. While Milton was doing his research on Truman family finances, Jack was checking on Amato and his connections. He wasn't as good as Milton infiltrating other people's servers, but Jack had known what Milton didn't. He was searching for connections between Amato and the Bruneri family. Plus, unlike Milton, financials made sense to Jack. He could read annual reports and SEC filings like they were the mystery novels. Amato was not quite as old as the old man Massimo, but not as young as his grandson Caio either. He had to reach farther than the usual searches they'd done before. He needed the full array of tools that Sapere Solutions had.

Dad's company went on after his death with dad's partner doing the work. Jack inherited the majority share, but he was too young to take up the functions his dad had. Still, he knew the partner well enough. So, he called Marco and they met at the sleek offices of Sapere Solutions at the Seaford Tower.

"Jack, my boy, how are you?" Marco was a jovial man, dressed in an impeccably tailored suit even on Sunday afternoon. "How's your school? Your guardians?'

"Everything is fine as you no doubt know," Jack had no illusions about Marco or him keeping tabs on his partner's son.

"Yes, I do. Is it really necessary to go into the ring like that? You're full young, Jack."

"It helps me to calm down. Or my layers would have to find criminal law associate soon."

Marco's face showed understanding. "How have you been doing?" this time his voice was much gentler.

Jack smiled a little, "Don't worry. I have therapy and everything."

They were silent for a moment and then Marco spoke, "Is there anything you need?"

"Yes," Jack tried to phrase his request in way that didn't reveal more than he needed to. "How much do you know about dad's past?"

"Enough to know where he learned so much about information gathering and about human anatomy," Marco's words were careful too.

"Ok. Good. What do you think of that home invasion theory by police?' Jack said blandly, but his heart seized in his chest a little.

Marco looked at him sharply and then sighed heavily. "Jack, I know it was hard for you. I know that you saw them, I know you found them. Dammit, I'm sorry for bringing this up. But let me ask you this: what do you think happened?"

What was Jack's turn to give a pointed glare at Marco. "I know what I saw. It was a professional job."

"Please, tell me you're not trying to avenge their deaths. Those guys, they were dead too," Marco's tone was a half point between being derisive and imploring.

"I am merely trying to survive. I know it was a hit job. I need to know who ordered this hit. I intend to live and to do so I need information," Jack didn't have to pretend now and his voice deepened in determination.

Marco looked at him appraisingly,, "What information do you need?"

"I need to check someone local. They have crossed my path too many times for it to be a coincidence. They have bet against me and tried to fix the match by spiking my water."

Suddenly, Marco was all business. "Name?"

"Bruno Amato."

"How deep should I dig?"

"I suspect he's connected to some illegal activities. Someone with connection to drugs. I need you to pinpoint those."

"And money trail?'

"I got that already. He has 6 checking accounts, two brokerage accounts, a dozen CDs and four savings accounts in his name in this city alone. Should I tell you about his accounts in the Caymans' and Luxembourg, which I lightened a little as a compensation for my injury? If he looks, he'd think his accountant did it. The accountant has some questionable porn, so it's only fitting. There are also his shell companies here and in Italy? I could detail the companies' accounts and assets-"

"Fine, fine," Marco smiled widely. "Sometimes you're so much like your father, Jack. He was like you: cocky, charming, and very smart. He taught you well... I'll treat this request as top priority. Anything else?"

"Yes, I need access to the Sapere Solutions system for a couple of hours..."

Marco stilled. This was a serious request. Milton could do a lot with a computer and a WiFi and Jack was very good at motivating people to talk, but Sapere systems were a league above and much better protected. With that he could probably get NSA records without tripping their security.

"Alright," Marco drawled a little. "Please, take care, Jack."

Sunday was spent reviewing what Milton's 'little bug' showed. Truman was picked up about two hours after Jack left him. He had wrapped his cut and took more drugs, so when he was picked up, he was unusually jittery. He must have mouthed off, because he was backhanded roughly and dragged out almost on his knees. Milton had ran checks on license plates, but they were recently reported stolen. That did give Jerry an idea: it could be that Amato's link was a crew specializing in stealing and stripping cars. It wasn't much, but enough to redirect their search.

He just hoped that all Amato's connections were strictly local.

* * *

Kim wasn't sure what to expect from Jack in the morning and tried to dress cutely, but also practically. So jeans and crop top with a light jacket was her choice. She spent too much time on her makeup, which led to questionable results, so she washed it all off and then she had little time to do much. In a way it was a good thing: she only did the usual minimum and just left it at that.

When she stepped out of her house, she mentally patted herself on the back for choosing pants. Before her, like the perfect incarnation of the bad boy myth, was Jack leaning casually against the sleek, powerful, and gorgeous bike. She couldn't tell the make and model, such things never interested her before, but she could tell it was impressive. Jack was even more impressive in his casual outfit of jeans, white T-shirt, and the leather jacket that somehow managed to look like designer clothes on him.

She approached him slowly, admiring the view, and he gave her a deliberate once-over.

"I hope you don't mind, but I rode my bike today."

"I- I never rode one before..." she managed. "How long have you been riding one?"

"This is my third one-"

"Don't tell me. You crashed the other ones."

"No, I'll have you know I am an excellent driver with great reflexes. I just like bikes and this one is a fine machine." She could tell he was proud and she never seen him act so much like a normal teen gushing over a cool vehicle. "This is Ducati 1199."

Clearly it meant something but was lost on her, so she murmured her approval and nodded.

"You have no idea what I just said, do you?"

"No? I am sorry, but I only know about Harley Davidson."

"Well, those are good bikes, but Italian ones are better."

Considering that this Italian bike had this particular half-Italian rider, she agreed: Italian were better.

He swung one leg over to straddle the bike and she admired the view again, vaguely wondering if this was real because he looked so good. He turned the engine on, the sound of a well-tuned monster of a motorbike was akin to a purr, no, rumble of a large animal. Jack had almost predatory presence sitting on the huge black beast, long wickedly muscled thighs that flexed, as he balanced the bike. If she thought he was deadly dangerous on the ring, he was drop dead gorgeous on the bike.

She braced her hand against his outstretched leg as she reached around to secure her bag to the back of the bike and tried desperately to ignore the slow and almost teasing flexing of his thigh under her fingers as he allowed her to use her grip on him to balance herself while carefully pulling a leg over the wide tank of the bike. She shifted a bit to get a feel for the weight of the machine and was almost grateful that she didn't have to sit front to back with him. Still the position of the seat was such that she was leaning forward and had to brace herself against him.

She wrapped one hand around his stomach, feeling all that great muscle, his right hand absently curving over hers as he laced their fingers together. Then he turned, slightly lopsided smirk on his face and presented a helmet to her. She was glad it wasn't pink, but it was white with tiny luminous sparkles in the paint and when she put it on, she felt like it fit her perfectly.

"Ready?" he asked and she thought she'd never ever be ready or get used to this, to them, to being so close to him and being with him.

"Yes," was all she said.

*Perché sei già bellissima (Italian) - because you are very beautiful.

**Ducati 1199 is very pricey and is in a category of sports motorcycles. I do not own motorcycles. My research was essentially Google 'Italian motorcycles' and _voila._

A/N: So, Jack is not being entirely truthful with her. I think it is in-character for this Jack, seeing as he is just learning to trust her and being protective of her makes him irrational. Also, right now, he is just soaking up the feeling of being cared for and doesn't want to disturb the honeymoon. But, as you can imagine that can't stay hidden for too long.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: This chapter is all Kick and their dating. I threw in a little of her schoolmates' reactions here.

* * *

Kim couldn't wait for the classes to be over. Ever since she and Jack rolled in on his bike, the attention of the school was on her. And she wouldn't lie that part of her wasn't enjoying it, because while she was cute and friendly, she wasn't about to be voted a homecoming queen. That would be Donna and she wanted Brett to be her king. Which probably would happen, if the teams voted like they supposed to. And beyond that, Kim had a reputation of the sweet and hard-working student, who was safe and predictable and... boring.

Well, she guessed that _that_ opinion was about to change. Jack was incredibly - outrageously - attractive on his bike and he was - even more outrageously - with her. When they rolled to a stop and he stretched his legs to balance the bike, a hand held to her to dismount, she felt the moment the general curiosity of 'who's this guy' turned into intense need to know 'what that guy was doing with Kim Crawford?'

They parted without a make out - barely - with Jack planting a chivalrous kiss on her hand. He winked before putting the helmet back and promised to pick her up later. She stood there with a dopey smile and was startled out of her stupor by Grace, who stepped up to her.

"Get ready for the circus, Kimmy," she drawled and looked behind Kim's back. There, marked by the same disbelieving looks, were the cheerleaders with Donna at the helm.

Kim sighed, "She should be happy. Brett is free for the taking."

Grace shrewdly quipped, "I think he wants to be taken by you. And Donna wants to show you up more than she wants to be with him."

If it was true, it was sad. Donna was undoubtedly a pretty and clever girl but so entrapped in the notions of social status and high school politics that she was verging from being 'a little shallow' and into the 'manipulative and cruel schemer.' Truthfully, Kim thought that a bit of power Donna had went to her head and she sought ways to expand it. She was the captain of the squad and was an unmitigated asshole during practices. Younger year students were terrified of her. Her peers didn't want to deal with the small army of followers, who'd do anything Donna asked. She tolerated Kim, because Kim was one of the few flyers on the team and had impeccable music timing. Sometimes being so short and a musician was an advantage. Plus, years of gymnastics made Kim flexible and a good jumper. So, Donna, while disliking Kim immensely for not falling in line, let her be for the good of the squad.

That lasted until recently, when Brett decided he wanted a new girlfriend. He was easily very popular already and his team followed his lead on and off the field. Donna, if she dated him, would be pretty much an untouchable queen of school.

"Buckle up, Kim, cavalry is coming," Grace smirked as the first girl reached them. Naturally, it was a sophomore and Donna remained where she was, as if she wasn't that interested.

"Oh, hey, Kim. How's the weekend? Practice music as usual?" was the opening salvo. The girl was eagerly watching Kim, while forgetting to greet Grace.

"You know me, Lou, predictable as ever," Kim refused to budge.

"Yeah, yeah, aren't we all... I had fun this weekend: my family was visiting in town. That guy, who gave you a ride, was that one of your relatives? Friends? I don't think I recognized him. I wouldn't have forgotten a guy like that," Lou actually got the dreamy look on her face.

Grace snorted a little, "That's because he goes to Swarthmore."

"Kim! You aren't hooking up with the enemy, are you? Is he on the team? Wait... Was he at the _game?"_ Lou's eyes went wide and she vibrated with the prospect of gossip.

Both Grace and Kim smiled at that. As if Jack would be on the team. "No. And I am not hooking up."

She wasn't. What she had with Jack was far more than 'hooking up.'

It went on like this for the rest of the day. People wanted to know the details and kept asking her questions about Jack. It was Jim, who apparently was scouting for the football team. He sat next to Kim at lunch and casually nudged her shoulder like they've been friends all this time. For her part, Kim was worried that he'd recognize Jack from that awful game.

"So, dating the Swarthmore guy?"

She startled: did Jim recognized Jack? "Erm..."

"I get it. With a bike like that, I'd get any girl I want," he offered jovially. "That baby's worth over thirty grand and it is a fiiiine machine," Jim was almost salivating and it as probably why he didn't remember Jack, because he was staring at Ducati so much.

Kim saw Grace's eyes go wide and she herself began to wonder just how well off Jack was. He said he had three bikes, didn't he? Then, what Jim said got through. Did he just suggest that she was in it for the money and status?

"I didn't even know what it was until this morning," was all she said, still processing the information.

Jim looked at her in mock dismay, "Dude... Seriously? It has the highest power-to-weight and torque-to-weight ratios of-"

"Uh-uh-uh, Jimmy," Grace broke in quickly. "No specs talk, ok? It's even more boring that when you guys talk about video games."

"Fine," he looked disappointed. "So, is it a new thing? Since you didn't mention it before?"

"Relatively speaking, yes."

"Cool, cool, cool..." he drawled. "Is he on their team, though?"

"No."

"Good. Don't want our girls to fraternize with the enemy."

He left and Kim felt like Hermione felt in _The Goblet of Fire_ : who she dated shouldn't matter to the school, right?

* * *

Unfortunately for her, Brett paid more attention to the rider than the bike. He cornered Kim when she and Grace were outside for Grace's smoke break. He asked to speak to her alone and Kim agreed with a nod to Grace, who motioned that she'd be nearby.

"Kim, I know we haven't exactly been hanging out since forever, but I'd like to think that we are friends. This guy- Well- I don't know how well you know him... But that guy, he... I don't know if you recall, but he was the one to attack Jim and I at the game... I now think it's because Jim fell on you. Do you realize what that means?" Brett looked earnestly and took her hand in a gentle hold, which she tried to break. "He nearly put Jim in the hospital and over an accident! I understand you weren't with him then and, still, he took upon himself to interfere!"

Brett tried to take her hand again and she folded both in front. Behind Brett she saw others take notice of the conversation and she wondered when Donna would be informed.

"The guys is obviously unhinged and he was like that when you were just 'a girl he's into.' I imagine it'll get uglier as ... things progress," Brett visibly struggled with the word _dating_. "And you are so- sweet and probably are very flattered by the attention and the other things," he made a vague gesture and Kim wondered if he meant Jack's body or his bike. "I'm afraid what he might do to you and you- You can't treat him like he was a normal person! What if you piss him off and he goes off on you?!"

Kim gritted her teeth at his condescension. What, did he think she was some child he needed to warn off?! She may have been 'sweet' (translation: inexperienced virgin), but she wasn't brainless. She knew damned well that Jack wasn't like an average guy, that danger clung to him; anyone with eyes could see that. But to think that he would be physically abusive of her was insane. She'd liked to think that Brett was in fact concerned about her, but she suspected that he was also disappointed that she chose someone else...

"Ok, Brett. I hear you. Your concern is noted, if not appreciated. I'd like to think that I can make reasonable decisions about my own life, including people I trust and date-"

"But Kim! Have you seen him on the field?!"

"I also have seen you and the team on the field," she rebuked coldly. "You make it sound that he is pretty much a rabid dog that you would rather see put down."

Brett sputtered slightly at the ridiculous assertion, "Kim, I care about you."

Any other time in her life this boy and these words would have been very romantic and swoon-worthy, but Kim heard Jack admit that he needed and wanted her and she was changed forever.

"So does he. Now you hear me. I have listened to you. But hate or not, he has helped me, asked for nothing in return, and left not even a scratch on me. So, you need to back off. Please, remember that I am your friend, as you insist, and _not_ your 'responsibility.'"

She turned to face Grace and saw that people, who were staring at the two of them, her face flushing in the moment.

"Kim…You don't understand."

"Drop it, Brett!" she said as she took the step towards Grace.

His hand shot out and curled around her wrist and pulled her to a halt.

Time seemed to come to a sudden, crashing halt as Kim was swung around by her own momentum. Her hip smacked painfully against the plastic outdoor table as she came to a jerking stop, just before she whirled on him. Her first instinct was not one she was proud of. Her free hand balled into a small hard fist and she pounded it as hard as she could against Brett's muscled chest, glancing off his ribs and bringing his attention back to her from whatever had drawn it behind her back.

"Let me go, Brett," she bit out.

The muted sounds of the crowd around them suddenly died off into a tense, waiting silence.

* * *

Jack could barely wait until it was proper to show up at Kim's school. His own scholastic career was patchy on attendance, but good enough on grades that he didn't bother to wait till the end of the day. He wanted to see her.

When he arrived at Seaford High, his approach has drawn a lot of attention, which he was used to. It happened often at his school too. While there were plenty of expensive cars around, few would dare to take on a Ducati. It was a high-powered and expensive sports bike and handling it required a lot of skill. So, when he rode it, it was a bit of a spectacle of blushing girls and envious guys.

He scanned the crowd outside hoping that Kim wasn't holed up in the library during break, but he was in luck. He spotted Grace in a distance and he made a beeline for her. But as he came closer, the crowd parting for him without being told, he sensed the tension in the air and his body reacted before he fully processed it. He looked at the crowd (midsize and mostly students of middling levels of physical threat); checked for the presence of school officials (none that he could tell); measured the distance to the bike (two minutes of short sprint max); and wondered if his blade (hidden on his body) would be necessary.

But when he reached the table Grace was standing by the logical thoughts got pushed to the back as his focus fell on Kim being restrained by that fucker, the quarterback. He could tell the fucker wasn't hurting Kim, but the onslaught of the protective emotions drowned other sounds and reasonable thoughts. He reached for his blade and slid it up the sleeve for an easy reach. He also planned at least two ways he could break that fucker's arm without hurting Kim. Grace saw him and stepped away as if clearing the path to him, her eyes hard.

He didn't hear what the fucker was saying, but he saw Kim suddenly raise her tiny fist and smack the douchebag on the chest. The sight was so unexpected (and welcome) that the red haze receded slightly and he heard her say 'let me go.'

His promise to her to hold off on jealousy and letting her deal with school stuff herself suddenly came back to him and he was torn as to whether to intervene or let her manage it.

The douchebag saw him too and his face turned to sneer, which Jack returned, "I believe she asked you to let her go." He said it placidly and was rewarded by the full-on glower, but at least he released Kim's wrist.

Kim turned to him and smiled in that cautious way that told him she expected him to deliver the beat down. That smile, and the daintiest chest smack he'd ever seen in his life, was what made him reconsider teaching the fucker a lesson.

"Oh, hey, Jack!" she came up to him with fast steps and grabbed both of his hands in each of hers. "How are you? How's the school? You're early. Wanna go somewhere now?" she said it all at rapid fire speed and he actually smiled at her.

"Don't worry. I remember our deal. And you handled him just fine, although you might want to add some upper body strength to your workout," he said casually and she began relaxing. "I can help you with that. I know a thing or two about delivering decisive punches," this part he spoke directly at the fucker, who got the message if his scowl was any indication. "Can you leave now?"

They walked hand in hand, nodding to Grace on the way and leaving behind the buzzing crowd and one jealous douchebag. Kim seemed relieved that here was no altercation, but Jack felt like this wasn't the end and he made a point to check on any leverage he might have against his rival.

* * *

Since the match with Carson, Jack was on a small break from the ring. Which was good as it gave him time to properly go on dates with Kim. And aside from the jealous boys, everything so far was great. He couldn't believe himself and Jerry was laughing like hyena at his dopey face. And it was a bit strange, but Jack didn't mind doing the normal dating rituals of the high school students. Of course, if they went out to movies and a dinner, he made sure to pick pricier places. Those usually had better security and he could reasonably ensure a semi-private booth for them.

Kim balked at the expenses and he realized that she still hadn't fully figured out the extent of his wealth. It wasn't as if he was a billionaire, but his parents left him comfortable with just the trust, separate accounts set up in his name. When they died, he inherited everything from them, which was a significant amount, and a share in Sapere Solutions. Of course, there was also his winnings and the spill over from their side business, so Jack couldn't truly complain. And he didn't even count the safe boxes in banks, numbers to which he had to memorize. That was an emergency stash.

So, like a dutiful boyfriend, he picked her up at home, from school, took her to music classes and then home. He threw in lunches, coffee and flowers in between, because that was what a good boyfriend would do. It was second week of such schedule, Kim asked to be shown where he trained. At which point it was Jack, who balked.

"Why? It's not that interesting," he tried to downplay.

Kim gave him a long look just short of rolling eyes, "Don't think I don't realize what you're doing Jack. So far, we have done everything that pertains to my life and nothing that involves yours. Are you trying to play a role here? Because if you are, you have to stop now. It can't be all about me. In fact, I want to know _you_ so, please, let me see what _your_ life is about."

He stood there in silence floored by her astute observation and, more importantly, by her desire to know him. He was both heartened and horrified at the same time. She couldn't possibly come to know all of his life. She shouldn't come to know all of his life. He couldn't put her in such danger.

Before he could say anything, Kim continued, "I see you thinking too hard. Probably trying to protect me. But, whether I know or not, all these dangers continue to exist. Wouldn't it be better if I was at least aware of them?"

He was silenced again by her words. Of course, she was naively, and by his own omission, unaware of _all_ the dangers that his life had. There were so many things she didn't know and even little bit that she knew should have scared her away. And yet this wonderful girl stood here and insisted on being part of his difficult life. That dopey feeling of wonder and warmth that he experienced every time he saw her combined with a much darker feeling that was all about guarding, protecting, sheltering, hiding her because now that he had felt warm, he wouldn't want to part from her. It was weird to feel so possessive and downright sappy at the same time.

He shook his head a little. For now, he beat the possessive him, who wanted to hide Kim forever in the fortress with high walls, into submission and moderated the protectiveness into something that she'd agree to. Because just being aware of the dangers wasn't enough though. She'd need a little more than just her pepper spray and feisty attitude. He could tell by how she carried herself that while she was athletic, she wasn't really a fighter.

"Did you have any self-defense classes?"

She smiled gently, "Not really. Unless you count my father telling me to S.I.N.G."

That was what he suspected. He had to do something about that. "Have you ever had to use your pepper spray?" She shook her head no. "Ok. Here is what I propose: we will get you something more than just pepper spray, and then I will take you to the gym. I want you to learn self-defense classes. Not from me, from Grant."

"More than pepper spray? Jack, I don't-" her face was adorably scrunched up and his heart squeezed at her utter innocence.

"Tasers, Kim. And you must have more than one. They take time to recharge."

"All right," she drawled, conceding the point to win the argument. Her smile showed that she was satisfied at getting her way.

"And don't worry about me doing things with you so much. I- I like how normal I can be with you... It's been a while."

Her smile became a little sadder and she hugged him tightly, startling Jack. She did that sometimes. She was so unafraid to touch him and, though he often initiated their kisses, she would show her... affection like that. He was getting used to that. Slowly.

"Hey, do you think I can see Jerry again? Before I get equipped with tasers?" she peered into his face from her position around his chest and her eyes were irresistible. He hoped he didn't look too much like an idiot, because if she knew the power of that particular look, she'd get away with lot more than a casual stroll through the fighting side his life.

"Yes, I suppose. I have to warn you though. He's been insufferable lately. He thinks he somehow brought us together, what with him bringing you to the match. Says that chancing my anger was worth it, because I have been grumpy too much before that."

Kim blushed and smiled at him, "Well, he did say something about that to me too."

"That jerk… He- Jerry is one of those few people, who is not an enemy or person to be used or just an ally. He and Milton are my only friends. We've been friends since middle school," the words flown easily and she kept quiet as he told her the little stories about the guys and their adventures when they were younger.

"I want to meet Milton too," she said when he finished his long stroll down memory lane.

"You'd like him. And I'm positive he'd like you."

It was true. Milton didn't comment when Jack came back after seeing Kim with an extra pep in his step, but had left open some windows on the computer and tablet in a very Milton way of helping. It was how Jack knew to get tickets for the LA Philharmonic opening gala honoring John Williams. Tickets were only available on subscription and were sold out, but he and Milton worked it out with a bit of digital magic and when he presented them to Kim he was rewarded with the most radiant smile he'd ever seen. It completely scrambled his brain and her subsequent chatter about the orchestra and the composer went over his head, but she was merciful and didn't call him on that. Instead she kissed him and he floated on that feeling for the rest of the week, until it was time to attend the performance.

* * *

Kim was not sure what she expected when her and Jack talked after the match, but she did not expect the 'normal' dating. Jack was so different from her peers so she thought that dating him would be like dating a celebrity or something. A lot of time spent indoors, avoiding public places, coming and leaving separately... Instead, it was... normal. He picked her up and dropped her off and it was normal, except that he showed up on his bikes and that was quite 'not normal.'

She learned that in addition to the Ducati, he had another Italian one - Moto Guzzi Corsa, which naturally meant nothing to her - and an old Norton Commando, a British bike of some renown. The best she could tell, Jack preferred sports vehicles with serious engineering, which meant expensive. She was slowly realizing that he was _rich_ rich. Not the old money that was made on steel, timber or cotton, but serious money that meant he didn't have to worry about totaling any of his expensive bikes. Or working in general.

She was a little uncomfortable at this disparity, but Jack never showed that he particularly cared about money. Maybe because his parents died and left him with all this inheritance, but he almost never mentioned anything about his wealth and it was only little crumbs that he'd mention in passing that gave her some idea about the level of that wealth.

Like, his bikes. The first one was a Kawasaki - good, reliable, mid-range as far as price went - and he loved it, but wanted a more powerful engine. So, he and his father researched available options and when they chose the Corsa, they went to Italy to test drive one on the factory track. She realized that it meant that the bike was so expensive that the customers could get such a 'preferred client' treatment.

Or when she jokingly said that his outfits were nearly all in the same style, but somehow not exactly the same, and very flattering. She meant it as a lighthearted poking at his sartorial preferences, but he simply said that Jessica, his late dad's and his partner's assistant, would arrange one day twice a year for him to have a personal shopper, who would show him options to choose from. And then, like magic, all this designer clothes and other necessary things were delivered to him already tailored. She stared at him with open mouth for a full minute after he told her that. When he saw her shock, he visibly retreated into himself and she scrambled to change the mood.

"Seriously? Just look at pictures? Jack, you are missing out on all the fun of the shopping experience. Seeing favorite brand on sale, hunting for your size, diving into the clearance isle, trying things on and realizing that they look awful on you. And don't get me started on shoes and purses... And did you know that the best scarves could be found on yard sales and at the fairs?" she prattled on and saw him relax minutely.

"That sounds like hell," he told her truthfully and she laughed at that, with him joining her soon.

Dating Jack was surprisingly easy and she hoped it stayed like that.

A/N: Look at that - Jack didn't use violence at all. How long do you think this peace would last?

A/N2: I will update chapter 12, because it had couple of typos, so if you see an update today or tomorrow, it would be that.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Once again, thank you for reviewing and reading. It makes my date to see each and every comment.

The first part of this chapter is more on Jack's mission, and the second is Kick on a date.

* * *

Of course, his honeymoon stage with Kim didn't mean he could slack off on his mission. His search through Sapere's system proved two things to him: one, his father either was planning something similar or expected that Jack would be on this path, because there was a lot of crumbs left for Jack to connect the dots; and two, the Bruneri was not only the old-fashion crime family he kept tabs on. Specifically, his father began search into their financial operations. Already Jack knew that the Cosa Nostra made an astounding amount of money in Europe and Americas, however none of its Caporegime (captains or capo) kept their money in cash of whatever country they made the deal in. Most of their profits ended up in dollars and in bank accounts in countries with more stable economies.

As far as Jack could tell, the Bruneri family provided a place for most of its capos to store their money outside of watchful eyes of the governments. That meant money laundering. The concept was obvious enough, but money laundering was inherently complicated. If it was simple than the government would figure it out and stop it. He read enough books on organized crime and kept his eye for any news stories about such and knew an anecdote about one Harvard economics professor went to prison for laundering over thirty million dollars of drug money from Colombia. The amount of cash alone was impressive, but he did also manage to switch it from pesos to dollars while avoiding Colombia's taxes on currency exchange, which per the article was also a pretty cool trick.

If Massimo was the Boss, then there had to be an Underboss and a Consiglieri. It would be the latter one, who'd most likely be in charge of the financial aspects. So, Jack focused on trying to figure out the structure in the Bruneri clan. Of course, all this laundering had to be done through the legitimate part of the Bruneri business. That was how Jack stumbled on their relatively new office of high frequency trading. Jack didn't exactly lie, when he told Chuck about his interest in finance. He had a natural inclination for it. Numbers made sense to him, especially if it was money. So, he understood the principles behind high-frequency trading—letting a computer algorithm buy and sell a stock faster than a human could comprehend for a profit that was a fraction of a cent. Repeat that enough times and there was incredible money to be made. Milton told him of the lucrative careers to be had for any computer nerd: banks and hedge funds that made their money making those trades needed computer science wizards —not only to write those algorithms but also because a piece of rogue code in their systems could wreak havoc and cost millions if not billions of dollars.

So, Bruneris must have used the high-frequency trading to hide moving that much cash. It made sense, the Cosa Nostra's power had always been partly tied to an ability to move wealth and assets without the government's notice. Bruneris must be trying to use the new ways of accomplishing that. So, it would seem that Massimo Bruneri was trying to run his own hedge fund with the criminal money.

Given Caio's age, he probably was working on his capo rank with the intent to eventually take over. But the position was not exactly inherited, it had to be earned and Caio would have to prove himself so that no other person in the syndicate could challenge him.

His father also kept tabs on other parts of the Cosa Nostra: their internet histories and phone logs. In would seem that dad wanted material that would provide him with leverage. It was as if dad was concerned that even Bruneri's rivals would come looking for him. So, there were some neat folders with compromising materials on many people of the East Coast families. Jack was now inclined to think that dad was a capo in the Bruneri family and happened to cross a lot of people. Capos were the money makers and enforcers and they could become powerful enough to supplant the boss himself. Was his dad one of the capos, who got too powerful? Was this why he fled for his life with mom? It might explain the constant fear of retribution, but not the amount of money they had. The money meant that dad could have been a consigliere and when he fled, he took the money with him. That definitely explained the continuous attempts on dad's life.

That changed things for him. He was somewhat shielded right now, because any search on the Brewer family would come up very skinny on facts. The police, at the suggestion of Jack's family lawyers and because of Jack's age, agreed to keep the details of the home invasion out of the newspapers. So now if anybody searched for the Brewer family history they will only come up with the references to the house sales as well as records of Jack's emancipation at sixteen. After that, there was very little mention of Jack and the fact that he lived with Milton's family was known to judge and school, but was sealed in court records. Sapere Solutions itself was a limited liability partnership, where Jack's portion was held by a holding company, which was also held by a holding company ultimately registered in Cayman Islands.

Maybe the direct physical assault could wait. Jack wasn't overconfident, but one on one, he could hold his own. The question was gaining access to either Bruneri man. He would have to spent enough time following them to get at either without their bodyguards. Otherwise, the brute force would see him dead sooner than you could say 'cazzo.' So, tracking and getting them alone would be the best approach. That would take time.

The dismantling of their little empire could be satisfying on its own and he could set up some of the Bruneri rivals as patsies for his actions. He could do what he did here, only on a different coast and slightly larger scale. With any luck, he could cause enough skirmishes among the families to make them bleed. He could accomplish a lot behind the computer screen and diminish their power considerably and, when they were weakened, he could strike.

And this approach allowed him to continue to live his life as it was a little longer. He could go to college and continue relationships with the few people in his life.

 _He could stay and date Kim for a bit longer._

* * *

It was time for the LA trip to the orchestra performance and he intended this to be a fancy date. He didn't know for sure, but decided to go relatively formal for the performance. Dark gray suit with subtle pinstripes he had tailored for the Christmas party Sapere Solutions hosted each year. As the owner, if not the manager, of the company he was expected to be there. He'd say it was a waste of time and suits had to be purchased each year as he grew, but now he didn't complain. Light purple shirt and a tie with purple and silver paisleys completed his look. He hesitated and grabbed a simple white shirt with an even simpler silk black tie. In case they clashed too much, he'd be ready to change.

There was another reason for him to dress up. Kim mentioned that her parents would want to know who she was going to the concert with. He didn't exactly look forward to it, but it was important and, ironically, also part of the normal dating. So, he came in with enough time to be grilled by her parents and made sure to look as presentable as possible.

The meeting was stilted at best. Her dad was not as he expected. Chuck Crawford was a tall lean man, who obviously has kept up in shape. He looked Jack up and down in a very deliberate manner and had shook Jack's hand firmly, a handshake not exactly challenging, but also not weak. Kim's mother, Elizabeth, was a good-looking woman, whom Kim resembled a little. Her eyes lingered on the suit and he figured she knew expensive clothes when she saw them.

The conversation, while they waited for Kim to come down, was essentially a polite interrogation. Jack didn't want to fall into some deep discussion or uncomfortable silences, so when asked about his parents and what they did, he told them in a terse tone that his parents were gone and he lived with his guardians. It was a right move if only because it made the Crawfords uneasy enough to drop the subject. They obviously knew that we went to Swarthmore and Kim's mother was especially interested in the curriculum. He laughed internally. Milton would be best suited for this kind of topic, but Jack had some social skills drilled into him by his mom and necessary at the annual events at Sapere Solutions. He talked in general terms that the athletic program was on par with academic (not exactly true), that his interests lied in computer science and finance (true enough), that he planned to attend college on East Coast to pursue further education (remained to be seen.)

And then Kim came down and she looked beautiful. Her dress was very pale silvery pink that had silver roses embossed throughout. The style, if he had to guess, was a little like 50-s vintage with the full skirt and fitted top that had a modest V-neck in the front. She had silver accessories on and heels that were higher that he'd seen on her. Her hair was half-up, half-down and altogether she looked incredible. Jack was aware that he stared dumbly, but couldn't help himself. Finally, when she blushed, he recovered his wits.

"You are very beautiful, Kim," he said sincerely and she returned the compliment. Her mother cooed over how well they looked together and made them stand to take a picture. It was better than mildly hostile looks of Kim's father and Jack went along. It was when they were walking to the car and Chuck followed them out to remind them of the curfew - which made Kim so uncomfortable she actually hissed an embarrassed _Dad_ \- that Chuck lost his cool demeanor.

Jack brought his car and it was clear that Chuck was impressed. All black Alfa-Romeo 4C Spider was parked near their house and it looked slightly incongruous in the middle-class family neighborhood. It was his father's. The car was ridiculously expensive and overpowered, being a sports car and all, but it was beautiful and his dad bought it as a gift to himself. When his parents were gone, Jack let go of the house and most of the belongings, which his lawyers sold at the estate sale. But this car - he held on to it. Of course, Jack had another car that he used for most of the driving and he had his bikes that got him places, but this black Spider was one of the few things from his parents that he cherished.

"Is this- No, it's a little older-" Chuck muttered as he stared at the car.

"It's 2013 model, so not the newest and... It was my father's," he didn't expect to blurt that part out, but Chuck looked at him with some sort of understanding and Kim... Well, she gave him a sideways hug in that unassuming way of hers and Jack relaxed a little.

"Just- Don't get cocky and drive like it's a race track? I expect Kim to get home without accidents," Chuck said in warning.

"I have never had a speeding or a parking ticket," Jack said simply. It was partially true. He never had tickets on record, because he and Milton took care to vanish them.

Chuck only grumbled and gave him another heavy look, although it was somewhat tempered. Jack figured that his orphan status had something to do with it.

* * *

"I really appreciate that you brought me here," Kim said gently as they sat in their seats. "I'm sure it's not exactly your cup of tea..."

"Yes and no," Jack felt the need to explain. "I probably can't appreciate the music like you do, obviously, but- My mom used to take me to these cultural events. She mostly liked the experience of the special event, the decorum that went with them. If I had to guess, she probably loved ballet and opera the most. So, she would take me with her and at first I really didn't like it. Like, at all. But once I understood that she was trying to give me something different from what my dad was teaching me, that she enjoyed those moments of us being together, I stopped being grouchy and I'd say that now I like it too. Because it is always beautiful, and people are talented, and because I can remember mom..."

He stopped talking, having unexpectedly opened up in a public place made him a little uncomfortable, but Kim squeezed his hand and briefly kissed his cheek. It was enough for his emotions to settle. "So, is there a favorite composer for you?"

"Impossible to choose one. It's like choosing a favorite book..."

"Ok, what about favorite opera?" he wanted to move the conversation.

"Tosca," Kim said, when Jack's gaze began to dart around the milieu of people, scouring for possible threats, "It is a work of such magnificence, even among the catalogue of great opera." Jack's attention turned to Kim as soon as she continued to speak. "It is a thorough-composed work combining the best of Wagnerian compositional techniques with a raw power that is unparalleled. And the subject matter depicts one of the most chaotic moments in Italian history, and presents a portrayal of anger, betrayal, passion, envy, ambition, and self-sacrifice in their purest forms."

Jack nodded pensively, "The very best and worst in human nature."

Kim gave her gentlest of smiles, "And in the human capacity for love."

Jack nodded, falling into thought, and reached for his playbill, "So, I'll rely on you to tell me which part to pay attention to, since you're an expert."

Kim looked at him again with that heady mixture of passive surprise and scrutinizing curiosity, but then a swell of applause rose from the assembled crowd; the conductor was taking the stand. Kim's attention snapped away, and they dutifully joined in politely applauding.

Kim's gaze was glued to the stage almost immediately as the orchestra tuned the instruments. Jack though couldn't relax quite that easily and his roving eye soon were checking the crowd, the hall, and any and all activity. Kim leaned back towards him and gave a brief history of the orchestra, pitching her voice low enough that Jack had to lean in as well.

The applause died and the conductor began; rich, lively music sprang into being under the steady beat of a baton. As the first act progressed, Jack occasionally glanced over the crowd in almost automatic move, but Kim seemed entranced. Her eyes never left the stage and they had gained a hazy quality that only deepened as the act went on. She was absorbed in music and he noticed her fingertips, resting against the armrest, were tapping along with the orchestra.

When the first intermission was reached, Jack had to put a hand on Kim's shoulder to rouse her from her reverie, reluctant though he was to do so. He let the touch last as long as he could, using the opportunity to linger while he asked Kim if she wanted anything to drink. Kim's pupils were blown back and the far-off look in them was slow to leave. When he returned, Kim had recovered herself; there was an element of chagrin to the plastered-on smile as she thanked for the drink. The musicians were returning to the stage and Jack turned his attention to them. Not for the first time he wondered at the contrast between his life up to this point - harsh and bleak and tinged with violence - with the beautiful girl next to him and the richness of its settings and the music. He could feel Kim's eyes casting occasional lingering glances at him, so he paid more attention to the musicians and until Kim turned her full attention to music. This gave him an opportunity to stare at Kim without her getting self-conscious. Her face was like a book, each note elicited emotions, and it was mesmerizing to watch.

The end of the act came too quickly, though Jack had the gratification of watching Kim softly exhale with every hushed swell of quiet, reverent music as it ended. She turned to him with shining eyes and he honestly thought that the experience was so much better for him than usual, because Kim's reactions were making the music and performance more meaningful. They exited for another break, sipping a little champagne that Jack bought for them. He asked her about the composer and a delighted Kim easily talked about his music and the finer points of the composition, leaning into the explanation with a hand on his arm. Jack had to ask quiet questions when he didn't understand something, which was often, but Jack was looking forward to the last act by the time the conductor made his final appearance.

This time, when the pervasive sway of the score had captured Kim's attention, Jack angled his body toward her and lost himself to the music, his eyes taking in the rapturous expression on Kim's face. The euphoria there grew incrementally through the short but potent pieces. Kim seemed to know most of it, and he saw her eyes falling shut only to jump open again at the final surge of sound, like the music was commanding her body. He, too, was taken with the music and her expression.

He could not remember the last he was less than hyper-focused on his surroundings in a public place. It was... nice to not scout for danger every single moment.

The brisk night air seemed to return words to Kim; they were only approaching the street when Kim cleared her throat softly and broke into the deep well of silence between them, "That was incredible. Thank you for taking me."

Jack spent a moment taking in the expression Kim wore: earnest, serene, deeply moved. "It was my pleasure," Jack said, and meant it.

They fell back into silence then, as they tracked back their route to the car, but the atmosphere between them had shifted; the glances and brushes they shared gained an element of physical awareness that was muted this whole evening.

When they turned the final corner and Jack's cat came into view, Kim let out a soft huff of laughter. Jack turned toward her inquisitively, and Kim met him with the sheepish smile, "Sorry, it's just- It's odd, coming back. I might sound weird, but music- performances- they transport me and things feel different now, like it's all shifted a little. And coming back, to find the real world the same as we left it, not three hours ago- just as it was. Unaffected."

Jack smiled back at her, remembering how we felt after the short interaction with her when he came to thank her. He, too, felt different.

"I get it, Kim. And I can honestly tell you that this time the music transported me too."

He paused for half a beat and leaned in to press a small kiss to her slightly-chilled lips. Kim lifted herself a little to press back and the kiss was brief. When they separated, her eyes assessing, Jack raised the arm not loosely circled by Kim's fingers to run through the soft curls up her back to her neck, and reeled her in again, tilting her head so he could kiss her more firmly.

The moment lasted longer than Jack had intended, as he was unable to keep from savoring the gentle, knowing pressure of Kim's lips against his own, nor the way Kim's lips parted slightly when her head tipped further to the side.

When he did pull back, Kim's eyes were brightened with a dark heat that sent frissons down Jack's fingers. "You are welcome," he said quietly.

A teasing smile, one that was unaccustomed to, played on Kim's lips. "Let's get in the car," she said, in a bright, confident tone. "It's a long ride home. If you drive fast and get to Seaford before my curfew, we can make out in this super-duper awesome car."

Jack's eyes narrowed and in response he placed his hands on Kim's hips and give her a firm push in the direction of the passenger's door.

Kim laughed and complied.

The drive back to Seaford was both like and unlike the drive to LA. It was spent in intermittent silence, with Kim looking mostly out the window, but every now and then Jack was aware of an intent gaze resting on him. She was usually so hesitant to start things herself that now he felt her eyes on him like it was a physical thing. His body reacted to it and he raced home well above speed limits, his car complying with his wishes, and anticipated the promised make-out.

He was very glad he took her to this concert. He might have to do more of this musical events: they put Kim in a good mood.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: The real life starts to penetrate their love-bubble. This is little bit of a transitionary chapter to lay out some development for the future.

* * *

Kim was in a good mood for a straight third since she started dating Jack. She met with Jerry briefly when he came to pick her up instead of Jack, who was apparently 'running an errand.' Jerry's tone was flat and she figured it had something to do with those matches. She only made a note to ask Jack later if he was fine physically. They planned to meet with his friends the coming weekend, apparently Milton's parents were out of the country and the house was available to them. Jack teased that Milton was treating this as an opportunity to show off his hosting skills and warned Kim that there'd be a lot of questions about her piano playing as Milton has researched that.

This was a new development. Jack had a sense of humor and occasionally he'd let it slip in a stark departure from his usual brooding demeanor. He seemingly turned a new leaf and Kim could scarcely believe that it was all her doing.

And, of course, there was the physical part. She never felt so unmoored before. Jack only had to be present for her to be aware of their proximity and to anticipate the next touch. And touch they did. Jack was simultaneously gentle and very passionate. She blushed and shivered remembering their make-out in the Spider, when she boldly climbed on top of him and they nearly ruined his and hers clothes. His tie came off, and somehow his shirt was unbuttoned, and her lips had a mind of their own as they laved attention on his warm skin. It was rewarding to see it break out in goosbumps. Until she felt his clever hands slide under the skirt of her dress, where they explored the new territory and she barely had time to be self conscious - it felt so good. Amazingly, she didn't even blush when she felt the rigid length on him under her. And when he grabbed her hips and sort of ground her in circular motion over him, she was both embarrassed and turned on. It didn't matter: once again her body acted on its own and she repeated the motion on her own, making him curse and then dive for a hard kiss. He wrapped one arm around her shoulder, bringing her close, and another was in her hair, which was hopelessly disheveled now, and held her tight as he kissed her with his lips, teeth and tongue. She wasn't sure if she was feeling this lightheaded and giddy because she was so turned on or simply for the lack of air. At some point he begged for her to stop or be prepared to have sex with him right then and there. She was off his lap so quick, she bumped her head against the roof. Jack didn't even laugh, as he just sat there, breathing heavy and mumbling something under his breath. When she calmed down a little she caught stray words, like cazzo, che palle, vaffanculo.* Eventually, he stopped and looked at her with dark and heated eyes.

"Kim- Are you- a virgin?" he said with some indefinable emotion and she felt the blush that just receded rise again. It was so embarrassing and he was so-

"Yes..." she finally whispered and looked down her lap.

His gentle fingers lifted her face to look at him and his expression was more of a wonder and gentleness and she saw so often on him, "Don't be embarrassed-"

"Hard not to," she groused. "I mean, I am a senior and still a virgin... It's obvious that you aren't," she meant it both as an example of what was normal for teens and also, in particular, that he had experience that she couldn't measure up to.

His eyes lost a little of that wonder, but not the gentleness, "No, I'm not. But I don't think my experience should be used as an example. "I simply can't believe my own luck, I guess."

He kissed her gently now and exhaled against her lips, "You have to tell me when things get to be too much for you, ok, Bambola? I- You turn me on so much and I do want to be with you like that, but only if you are comfortable."

She couldn't believe her luck, too.

Unfortunately, atmosphere in school was less idyllic. Brett didn't move on from wanting to be with her. She was beginning to suspect that Brett was more complex than she initially thought. She figured he just wanted a girlfriend, someone pretty and popular enough, but Brett was weirdly stuck on her. It was almost as if he was in a competition with Jack. So he didn't stop paying his attentions to her. Naturally, Donna was pissed, and she was taking out on the entire squad. Last practice, she was making everyone sprint back and forth across the field. That was _after_ she's already made them rehearse next week's half time number several times while yelling out every flaw imaginable in the routine. It was exhausting and at times Kim wished to simply quit, because she was getting the brunt of critique.

When they weren't on the field or in the gym, Donna and her posse were giving Kim cold shoulder, and gossiped about her behind her back. Sometimes, they went farther than that. Like yesterday, when Kim was a few steps away from her locker and someone rammed into her side so hard that she stumbled and crashed into the wall. She cringed and took a deep breath because she landed on her arm. She looked up and see Donna walking down the hall with a hop in her step.

Sometimes Kim really hated that girl.

Later that day, at lunch Brett cornered her in one of the secluded spots at the back of school. She had just come out from the restroom when she felt a tug and saw his face, and suddenly she was pulled closer to a brick wall.

"You're avoiding me," he said, and his eyes were all over her. "Why?" his eyes narrowed.

"Take a guess, Brett," she said with sarcasm. "Every time you're near me, Donna gets extra pissy and we get a brutal practice. I really wish you'd just get on with your life."

She tried to leave, but he rests his hands on either side of her head and leaned into her, "I saw Donna body check you this morning in the halls."

She scoffed, "Thanks for coming to see if I was okay." She could see that he was probably flattered a little, except he didn't want Donna and Kim didn't want him.

His arms lowered as if to come around her and Kim tried to compress into the wall, "I'll talk to her." He said his head lowering a little. The situation was getting too intimate, "I don't like to see you hurt, Kim." This obviously was a nod to Jack and she was getting a little annoyed.

"Don't bother, it's fine," she said coldly and tried to decide if she could just duck under his arm to get out of this weird situation. "I have to go. Do you mind?" she looked pointedly at his arms and he kept them where they were for another weighted second before stepping back.

When she mentioned the interaction to Grace, her friend frowned and sighed, "We're in for a treat today. I bet Donna would be a real peach today."

"You don't think that she'd know?"

"When has anything stayed secret in Seaford High?" Grace asked rhetorically. "I suggest faking illness and getting out of here."

It was a good advice, but Kim had to attend the Homecoming committee meeting. She wasn't even sure how she got stuck there, but it was partly to support Julie, who was her partner in Biology.

"And so, that is why I think the theme this year should be like Old Hollywood," Lindsay Calvin, a cheerleader and Donna's friend, said and sat back in her chair beside class president Brody Carlson.

"Thank you, Lindsay," Brody replied with a tight face, "for that truly original suggestion."

Kim nearly rolled her eyes at Lindsay's lame idea.

"I actually kind of like that idea. Right Kim?" Kelsey spoke up, which wasn't surprising. Donna probably came up with this and now both girls were tying to make it happen. "Kim?"

"Urghm... Well, it is basically like prom anyway, you know," Kim began diplomatically. "Guys in tuxes and girls in long dresses..." She trailed off as she watched the cheerleaders' faces cloud over and the jocks all nodding along.

"Yep, she's right. The Old Hollywood?" Jim looked over at Kelsey as if she's grown two heads. "Veto!"

Julie's hand flew up, and everyone turned to see her fidgeting with her reddish hair and adjusting glasses. She looked almost shy at all attention and Brody nodded his head, and she cleared her throat. "I'm not too keen on the Old Hollywood idea either, but if we are talking about vintage, that I can work with it. What about a 'through the ages' type of theme?"

She turned and looked at Kim, and Kim wondered if that meant she supposed to agree with Julie. Maybe they were supposed to share some sort of camaraderie because they were partners. Julie did most of the work in labs, partly because she was extremely type-A about her studies, and partly because Kim let her. Well, it would be better than Old Hollywood theme. So she found her head moving up and down in a nodding motion.

"Kim?" Brody calls out and her head flew up. "Are you seconding Julie's notion?"

"Uh…" she stared at Julie who looked like she was worried that Kim was going to throw her idea to the ground and stomp all over it. "I think it's, uh…Yeah." She nodded her head. "I second it."

Anything to get out of the school.

Brody nodded. "Well, all right then. Anyone care to veto this idea?" He looked around the table.

There were about twelve people in the room, and of the twelve, there were eight students clearly biting their tongues. It was obvious they wanted to disagree, but for some odd reason they weren't speaking up. Kim looked from face to face and realized they were all staring at her. Why was everyone staring at her?

"Uh..." she fidgeted with her hair nervously. "Why are you all staring at me?"

No one spoke up, so Kim sighed and crossed her arms across the chest, "I'm not being the final word in this meeting," she shook my head. "It's ridiculous."

"That's for damn sure," Lindsay muttered to herself.

Brody pinched the bridge of his nose, and the rest of the students just stared at anything but Brody or Kim. She couldn't believe this; since when she was the queen bee? Since when did any one student had the final say in student government?

"Knock it off, you guys!" she snapped at everyone. "What's going on?"

Jim decided to be the messenger and leaned forward on the table. "I don't know about the rest of them, but Brett's given all athletics teams in school strict orders to pretty much do a back flip if you ask us to."

Kelsey sighed and run her hands through her dark curly hair. "And Donna gave the opposite orders to the cheer squad," she said while apparently checking her hair for split ends.

Kim jumped up from the chair so quickly that it tipped over and loudly banged on the floor. "Since when?" she asked, unbelievably embarrassed.

Lindsay gave her a withering look, "Since you apparently became the 'it girl' for the quarterbacks and the mysterious hot bikers. I frankly don't see it," snorted.

Her scowl irritated Kim off even more. "Watch it," she snapped at Lindsay.

"Or what?" she shrugged. "You're not my captain. You can't tell me what to do."

"Lindz, quit it," Kelsey nudged her.

"Yeah, Lindsay, shut your mouth. You're just making it worse for the rest of us," Jim scoffed and looked up at Kim. "Oh, my bad. Did I offend you? Looks like I'll be running laps for practice today," he rolls his eyes and shook his head as he turned away from her.

"You're all being a bunch of jerks!" Kim glared at everyone in sheer disbelief. "I- I had no idea!"

" _ENOUGH!_ " Brody slammed the gavel down so hard that the handle broke off. "Kim," he sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, "I'll probably pay for this later but… I think you should go."

She could't think she was so shocked to hear those words come out of his mouth. "Excuse me?" she whispered and took one small step backward.

"You're disrupting the group, and we're getting nowhere with you here. I promised Principal Funderburk that we would have all this month's agendas finished by the end of today. We can't do that if we're constantly fighting and biting our tongues to stay on your or Donna's good side—"

"That's it!" she cut him off and grabbed her bag from the floor. She stormed to the door and turned around before she left, only to find everyone was watching her. "Oh, and don't worry. I'm not going to tell on any of you jerks."

 _Screw all of them and screw practice_. Clearly, Donna was on a warpath. And Brett... She just couldn't believe that Brett had done it and now it drove the wedge between her and practically everyone at school.

* * *

Jack had a busy week sorting his training, scheduling Kim's self-defense and doing more research. So, when Milton called him to Manny's, Jack was ready for some breakthrough.

"What's new, Milton?"

"I figured how Truman and Amato crossed paths."

"I thought they targeted Chase because of me."

"Yes, that happened too, but first Amato and Truman's father had business dealings. Specifically, Truman's business is commercial real estate development. Big projects, big crews, large expenses at the beginning of the project..." Milton trailed off and waited for Jack to catch on.

"Money laundering?" at Milton's nod, Jack continued. "So, Amato has illegal income... Is he part of any specific gang?" Jack's thought immediately went to the logical connection: Amato was part of some Italian family outfit here on the West Coast. Was he someone's capo?

"He has to be. He has an export-import business and those warehouses are part of it. Truman's father was in dire need of cash infusion, but his bank wouldn't extended his credit and it was bad for a while. Then, suddenly, he had plenty of cash to fund the construction and on completion, he should have turned a tidy profit. And he did, only it was much smaller than it shoudl have been. I'm guessing, he gave a cut to Amato."

"And then I happen to cross Amato and he has me followed, sees which school I attend, and realizes that he has his in already with Chase. Clever and neat."

Chase stopped coming to school and the rumour was that his family chose to have private tutors instead. Jack was pleased that he didn't have to deal with Chase, but briefly wondered if this would save CHase from a lifetime of existing in semi-shadows. Not likely if his father was already implicated with the-

"Jack..." Milton's voice was quiet and serious. "Were you going to confide in me, us, that you have Italian mob after you? Or that you are planning your own revenge on them?"

Jack tried to keep surprise off his face, but it was nearly impossible, "How?"

"You asked me to research the Bruneri family, remember? It was such an odd request and they were on the East Coast, but then I thought about it. Really put things together and it made perfect sense. The professional hit on your family, the way you're basically in par with Grant on the trained responses, the ridiculously obvious love for Italian vehicles, your father's business, your fluency in Italian, the tracking of people who killed your parents... And now there is Mr. Amato, also coincidentally an Italian last name, who has some shady connections and a need for legitimizing large amounts of cash. Who had some criminals attack and nearly kill you. So, were you going to tell us?"

Jack sat silent for a while and lamented his friend's genius and his own stupidity in giving Milton enough information to connect the dots. But beyond the lingering regret of being found out, he tried to decide what to tell one of four people in his life, whom he trusted.

"No. I wasn't planning to tell you anything," he finally settled on the truth.

"That I figured out. Does this mean you are planning on doing it all alone?" Milton spoke with surprising directness.

"Yes."

"That is incredibly stupid Jack. You are good on a computer, but I'm better-"

"Milton! I'm not dragging you into this with me. You are brilliant and have this incredible future ahead of you. And you have parents, who adore you, and I can't do take you away from them. Because what I'm planning - it is dangerous and has slim chance of being a success."

"All of those things apply to you too, Jack. You are smart and you have people, who care about you too. Maybe Jerry, Grant and I don't mean as much to you-" he held up his hand as Jack opened his mouth to protest, "Please, you were going to leave after school and 'drift away,' weren't you? So, fine, we could be left behind as childhood friends, but what about Kim? Were you going to leave her too?"

Jack winced at those pointed words and looked away.

"You were, weren't you? I don't know why then you even started-"

"But that's it Milton! I didn't want to start anything. I really tried to stay away. God, I really did. She deserves better than this, but, yes, I thought we'd date, and then she'd go to her music school and eventually the long-distance and all that..." Even as he said it, his entire being protested that particular future. "What do I have to offer her, really? Even if I didn't plan to find people, who wanted to see my parents dead, there is a chance that whoever that party is, they'll come after me too. So, I am either a sitting duck or I'm on suicide mission of my own. As you can see, this is not the sort of future I'd want for Kim. Or you. Or Jerry... I want you all to be safe. You understand that, right?"

Milton nodded his head and then asked, "And are you telling Kim any of this?"

Jack winced yet again at this friend's ability to ask all the uncomfortable questions, "No..."

"That's incredibly short-sighted, Jack, not to mention it's damaging to your relationship-"

"Milton!" Jack said in exasperation. "She doesn't need to know any of this. Remember, unlike you and Jerry, she doesn't know what lurks beneath the peaceful veneer of life. Her biggest problem in life right now is a jealous cheerleader and a guy with a crush, who doesn't know when to stop. Her biggest challenge is to get into her school of choice. She lives and breathes music. I already dragged her into this world of underground fighting. It's why I asked you to see what modifications could be done to the standard tasers. It's for her. And she really shouldn't need them, but I am selfish and I want her in my life and that's why she needs the tasers and trackers and self-defense lessons. It's already too much danger and I'm not dragging her into the rest of it."

Jacks impassioned speech made Milton swallow whatever else he meant to say.

"Good, we agree then. Kim doesn't need to know more than she already does. I'm gonna go and meet her after her class and she'd tell me all about her school and it would be normal and I'd stay calm even if her idiot schoolmates are awful, because they are, too, normal. They, none of them, have knives, or guns on them, They maybe do drugs, but they don't sell them. They all have plans for college and none of them plan to go to war with mafia! None of them expect to die in such a war!"

Milton was quiet for a long beat and then, "You chances of success are slim because you didn't have me helping you." Jack looked at his friend wildly and Milton continued as if not noticing the reaction, "First off, direct assault is stupid and chasing the hit-men to trace the person, who gave orders, wastes our time. If you are sufficiently certain that the Bruneris are behind the murder of your parents, then let's work from there. What do we know about Bruneri and Amato connections?"

"Milton..." Jack began and looked askance at his friend.

"Jack, this is my choice. And if we continue with our methods like we did here in Seaford, then I am reasonably sure that we won't be discovered."

They looked at each other for a long suspended moment and Jack saw his friend's blue eyes determined and serious. He sighed at last, "I pretty much figured the same thing. With your information on the money laundering, I'm now guessing that Amato might be Bruneri's capo here. The Bruneri, Inc. has a new division of high-speed trading and I suspect it is used for the same purposes as Truman's development projects. My plan was to dismantle or cause as much financial damage to the Bruneris and possibly lead them to suspect other families. With luck they could have enough skirmishes to diminish their manpower and then..."

"And then, we'd strike."

A/N: The chapter at first reads as disjointed, because of the stark contrast between Kim's day and Jack's. But I hope you realize now why I have done it. It is both to move the plot, and to juxtapose the very different lives they lead.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: I'm trying to move the plot along, but Kick needs some time to develop too, so here we are.

* * *

Kim didn't hide from Jack her current high school issues, but she did gloss over them. He seemingly took it in stride and she almost breathed a sigh of relief, until she saw him texting something quickly to Jerry. He caught her looking and shrugged.

"I promised, and I won't interfere, but if either of them becomes a nuisance to you, then I'd like to be up to date on them."

She knew, of course, that she couldn't really stop him from gathering information, "Ok, but only when I'm physically in danger, right?"

He reluctantly nodded and they went back to dinner that was as delicious as it was expensive.

Of course, Kim didn't plan on letting it get to the point of physical injuries, so she confronted Brett in school.

"Brett!" she called to him and saw people take notice. When he turned to her with a smile she pounced, "Brett, what the hell? Why did you do it? I don't need this kind of headache in my life. I didn't ask you to help me. I wouldn't even think to ask! Rescind your orders, or whatever! And stop meddling into my life!"

She saw when he realized that this wasn't going the way he wanted to, because he flushed slightly and stepped up to her, crowding her into the lockers. She sidestepped and turned around so it was he, whose back was against the lockers.

"Kim, I don't know what you heard, but this is just bull shit. I didn't do anything."

"Whatever... Jim said that you told all the jocks to say what I do or else, and it's just- unnecessary. And unwelcome."

His face now was a little angry and he hissed at her, "Unnecessary, you say? So, if people wanted to shun you for being with a Swarthmore guy, then I should let it be?"

Kim's brows rose in confusion. Did he mean the rivalry? It wasn't really a blood feud or anything-

"Oh yeah, people know who is it that you are seeing now. And let's just say it, they are not pleased. He-"

"Enough! So, you are doing this to _protect_ me?" Kim was incredulous. Brett nodded smugly. It occurred to her that he was the only one, who recognized Jack. Suspicion crawled up her spine, "How- How did anyone find out? Did you tell anyone?"

He's expression became blank, which was an answer all on its own, "It doesn't matter now, does it? The fact is, the school knows and you are not all that safe right now. The only one standing with you right now is me."

Unbelievable... He acted like he was her knight, swooping in to save the damsel in distress, "I- I can't even with you right now, Brett. That's just low." She took a deep breath, "And I 'm not alone. So, thanks for this dubious help, but no, thanks."

"You are making a mistake, Kim. You seem to be making a lot of them," Brett was a little too condescending and she wondered why did she ever think he was nice.

The repercussions of her little conversation with Brett became apparent immediately. There were few people, who talked to her in halls and some cheerleaders openly scowled at her. She seriously couldn't believe that people were so juvenile, but it was strange to suddenly become so alone. Of course, Grace didn't care about any of it and plopped down next to Kim at lunch.

"Sweet Mother of Dragons! Kim, your life is such a melodrama now! You spurned Brett and his little feelings are hurt now. Donna is both pissed that he cares and glad that he currently is mad at you. If I were you, I'd skip school, but you're you, so it's moot," Grace said cheerfully. "Oh, and people put out fillers to find out, who is your guy."

Kim sighed and rolled eyes simultaneously, "Awesome... So, was anyone successful in figuring out who Jack is?"

"Well, Donna knows a fellow skank in Swarthmore. A girl by the name Bianca." Grace looked positively angelic when she turned d to her with an innocent expression, "Does it ring any bells?"

Kim cursed silently and scowled at Grace, "You are having too much fun at my expense."

"But Kimmy, this is better than TV. Imagine Donna and Bianca chatting about guys and then Donna brings up Dragon and she's all, he's with this slut Kim, and Bianca goes, who's that, and they dish to each other and, boom, drama!"

"Yes, and when that bomb goes boom, it's me who's going to be the target," Kim actually thought of telling Jack about it, but dismissed the idea immediately. Jack, when he was in that possessive and protective mode, was the kind of weapon that obliterated everything within striking range. Better hold off on that. She'd wait to see if either Brett or Donna did anything.

"Kim," Grace was now more serious. "I get that it's hard on you right now, but it's only Brett and the football team, really. And who cares about that bitch Donna? She won't openly sabotage you, since you're our only flyer, so at least at practices you're safe. And I'm here and so would be others…"

She was right: Kim wasn't alone and this was just high school, not like Jack's life and its constant danger.

* * *

The weekend arrived and Kim felt nervous meeting Milton as if she was to face Jack's parents. It was different than her relationship with Jerry. Perhaps because she and Jerry met under such extraordinary circumstances, there were no nerves or awkwardness. Not to mention that Jerry had a laidback disposition and they easily fell into banter and teasing as if they have been friends for years. Milton, by all accounts was serious and Jack's brother for all intents and purposes. They lived in the same house and, from what she gathered, Milton was Jack's confidant in some matters, whereas Jerry was more of a follower.

She arrived early to Jack's place, bringing with her homemade brownies, and expected Milton to open the door. To her surprise, it was Jack, who greeted her.

"Milton had to step out for an emergency run to the groceries. He realized he was out of cheese platter," Jack offered with a shrug.

"Sure... That makes sense," she mumbled. "Cheese platter?"

"Yeah. Charcuterie, to be specific. You see, I don't like blue cheese and Milton is lactose intolerant, so normally there's hardly any cheese here, but since you and Jerry were coming, Milton decided to serve some."

"But, like, last minute?"

"Well, it's actually was my doing. I didn't want him to overwhelm you, so I may have mentioned that you liked brie and he just ran with it. This way you have chance to acclimate to this place without Milton giving you a third degree."

His face was openly smiling now and Kim smiled back, releasing a breath she's been holding. Somehow, Jack tapped into her unspoken anxiety and she was grateful. She lifted on her toes and kissed him both in greeting and in gratitude.

This kiss was just for the two them and it was liberating and wonderful. Jack dragged her up the stairs and into his room, which was surprisingly spacious. There he sat on a small couch with her on his lap, immediately going back to kissing. It quickly escalated, as was usual with them. Kim teased Jack 's bottom lip with her teeth. He responded to her request and relaxed his jaw so she could explore his mouth with her tongue. Their position on the couch gave her just enough extra height to being the one leaning down, and controlling their kiss and Jack let her do it to him.

Jack responded to her teasing tongue by pulling her hem of her skirt up and sliding his hands up her legs and over the lace fringe of her panties so that his fingers cupped her butt. She loved the feel of his fingers gripping her there, and pulling her closer to him.

Neither of them tried to hold back or pretend that they didn't want to feel more of each other's skin. Kim didn't care that she pressed her breasts into his chest just to feel his heart racing or that she stopped kissing his lips and gently traced his chiseled jaw with her tongue. When she reached his ear, and gave it a gentle nip, Jack groaned and his hands kneaded her butt.

She pulled back slightly, "Sorry...I just really wanted to do that..."

Jack gasped slightly, struggling to focus on using his tongue to talk, "Kiss me? I have wanted to do more than that since the moment I opened the door."

"Really?" Kim scooted a little further back. Jack moved his hands from her skirt to give her space. His fingers started lightly brush up and down her sides tickling the skin of her ribcage. "Tell me more."

Jack nodded and his hands moved up to cup her face. "I wanted to kiss you since we first talked that night when I came to thank you. You had very pink dress on and I wanted to kiss you so that your bright pink lipstick rubbed off." As an illustration of his point he kissed her so thoroughly and tenderly that she was pretty sure kissing anyone else was going to suck from now on.

Jack broke their kiss and stared into her eyes, "Do you want me to tell you what else I was thinking about that night?"

She didn't trust herself to speak, so she just nodded and bite her lip.

"Then, I watched you at home like a stalker and I loved seeing you comb your hair." His hands reached behind her and gently ran fingers through her loose hair. She whimpered as he massaged her scalp and ran his fingers through her hair so it cascaded over her shoulders.

"That's even better than I imagined." He grinned and continued, "Then I saw you in your glasses and I thought they were cute, but in my mind, I didn't want them to get in the way when I did this."

He brought his lips back to hers with a crashing force that made her think of a storm finally making landfall. His last kiss had been tender like a warm day the beach, but this one was searing with heat. She gripped his shoulders and could literally feel desire rolling off him in waves, rippling through his muscles, building up along his skin, and blowing over into her. She responded in kind, feeling herself swept away from rational thought, so that the only thing left was desire.

When she moaned with pleasure, his lips twitched with the proud little smile of his that was quickly becoming her favorite part of her day.

Jack shifted his attention from her lips and slowly started to trail kisses down her neck, "As much as I wanted to taste your lips, I couldn't stop thinking about feeling your heartbeat rushing because of what I was doing to you." He pressed a swift kiss to the pulse point on her neck and chuckled when he did feel her blood surging.

Kim had thought nothing could feel better than Jack kissing her lips, but this was better. She angled her neck so it was easier for him to bite the delicate skin of her collar bone. He followed her hint like the avid student that he was and studied her skin with the attention that she was craving. When her top blocked him from licking the whole length of her collarbone, he pushed it out of his way, but it wasn't enough for Kim.

"How long before Milton comes back?" she whispered into his hair and he looked at her wildly.

Feeling very confident when he looked at her like that, she reached and found the bottom hem and leaned away from him for just long enough to pull her shirt off and toss it behind her.

When she moved away from him, Jack let out a frustrated sigh, but when he realized what she was doing he sat back into the couch and swallowed slowly as he took in her bare shoulders, electric blue lace bra, and small breasts. His eyes found her again and his hands wrapped around her thighs, and shifted her hips so that she was resting on the hard length of his growing erection.

As much as Kim enjoyed the way that his eyes were drinking her in, she wanted his lips back on her skin. She made her point by pressing her hips a little farther into his pelvis and flexing her thigh muscles. When Jack leaned back into the cushions, she used the opportunity to start pulling at his shirt.

Jack laughed at her clear desire to get his shirt off and helped her wrest it off. She pulled the shirt way and dropped it next to them so that she has a better view of his chest. His shoulders were all enticing muscle that she wanted to kiss, and his abs were hard planes with ridged edges that she wanted to lick. She had seen it all on the ring and when he was injured, but right now this body wasn't a fighting machine. It was hers to explore with gentle touches and kisses.

However, the ragged and rough scars that littered his skin gave her pause.

"Mine isn't an easy life, Kim."

She nodded, though she wasn't sure that he was exactly referring to his scars. He pulled her fingers to most recent scar, which she herself tended to, and gently outlined it with the tips of her fingers. She watched their hands move together, tracing the proof that as strange as his world was, she was part of it now. Kim could feel the steady, fast, beating of his heart under the scar tissue. It was impossible for her to separate the two sensations.

She looked back into his eyes, "I'm not looking for easy Jack."

Jack's somber look quickly shifted to something more primal when she dipped her head down to his chest and traced the scar with her tongue, just like her fingers had a moment before. She kissed each of the scars that she could find, tasting his skin and loving that he was sharing this part of himself with her. She couldn't say she liked that he had badges from life, hard work, and the fighting. But, like his muscles and callused fingers, these scars were proof that he was more than a pretty face and a fat bank account.

As she was kissing his scars, Jack pushed one of her bra strap down her shoulder. When she paused, he quickly whispered _'ok, Bambola?'_ and she responded by smoothing her hands across his pecs. He took the opening and dragged his teeth across the creamy skin of her chest, stopping randomly to press kisses and nip small love bites. Kim arched into his touched and his arms wrapped around her, giving her needed support and him better access to her chest.

Jack's right hand glided over her lace bra until his fingers were cupping one of her breasts. At first his thumb rubbed light circles over the flimsy lace. As her nipple hardened with the attention, Jack pulled his lips up to her ears, and whispered, "The night after the fight with the Seaford team, I wanted to peel off the shirt you were wearing and find out if your bra was matching your outfit."

His fingers stopped gently squeezing her breast, and dipped into the lace cup so that he could free her breast from the fabric. As soon as her nipple was free, Jack started to pinch it in a way that sent shocks of pleasure coursing down her backbone. She gasped from the sensation.

"And then at that falafel shop, when you were on a date with the fucking quarterback, I wanted to push you into the wall, so that I would have time to find out the sounds that you would make when I did this."

Jack shifted his lips to her breast and took her nipple in his mouth. He suckled and teased with abandon, and it was a thousand times hotter than his fingers have been. She bucked, and drove her hips farther into his pelvis. His own hips pushed up to meet hers, rubbing his erection, trapped by fabric, against her inflamed skin. One of his hands moved to grip her thigh and the other spread across her back to hold her in place so he could continue to devour her.

Kim closed her eyes and let the feelings wash over her. She could barely focus on anything beyond his warm mouth and where their hips met. All of Jack 's attention was on her too because neither of them heard the footsteps or the door opening.

"Jack! You invited your girlfriend to a party and instead you are- _ravishing_ her in your room!?"

* * *

Fast as lightning, Jack's muscles tensed and his attention moved to whoever was at the door. His mouth shot away from her chest and his gaze shifted so he could look over her shoulder to see who was there.

"Milton!" Jack growled and used what Kim was coming to think of as his Dragon voice. It did not broker any room for disagreement for anyone, let alone whomever interrupted them. "Out!"

Kim started to turn towards the door to see this guy, and then realized exactly what her state of undress was and dove into Jack's chest and arms for cover. He lightly kissed the top of her head and reached for his shirt which he draped over her shoulders so that her skin was hidden from Milton. Who did not seem inclined to follow his friend's command, and Kim could hear the apoplectic sort of wheezing and then a scuffle of someone turning around and bumping into something. There was more noise and a muffled 'did you see her?' from Jerry.

"OUT!" Jack roared and then she heard the door shut close.

Kim pulled on her own top, and fixed her skirt. She checked her hair in the sleek surface of a giant TV, but her makeup was a lost cause. Certainly, her hair looked like she had been rabidly making out with the hottest guy she had ever met, which was exactly what had happened. There was nothing she could do to fix it now, and Milton and Jerry already knew exactly what they had been doing so Kim figured it was fine.

Jack reached his hand out to her and she took it. It was a sweet gesture given that minutes ago that same hand had been gripping the bare skin of her butt and then tweaking her nipples. Kim sighed. If she kept thinking about it she was going to die of thwarted lust before they reached the downstairs.

Milton was tall, ginger and the most teenager-like of the three friends. Jack had the hardness about him that didn't exactly age him, but made him less innocent. Jerry had a little of the same maturity about him. Milton looked like he spent days with books and computers. His dark blue eyes were wide and he blushed just as badly as she did, when their eyes met.

"Jack!" he said with forced cheer. "Would you introduce me to your guest?"

Jack rolled his eyes, but acquiesced. Kim actually appreciated this maneuver, because it reset things for them.

"Milton, this Kim Crawford, my girlfriend and our guest today. Kim, this is Milton Krupnick, my friend and almost brother."

"Almost?" Milton's eyes twinkled at them.

"Yes. You lost the title after you decided to 'surprise' me in my room. You know it could have backfired."

Jerry, who was already smiling teasingly, laughed and winked at Kim, "Good to see you, doll. Nice bra."

She gulped and Jack threw a coaster at Jerry. He had a good aim and Jerry had to duck so low he almost put his face in the nearby chair. Before Jerry could even straighten fully, Jack already had him in a headlock and towed the curly haired boy towards Kim.

"Apologize."

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," Jerry pleaded, but his voice was light.

Kim couldn't believe it. Jack was light-hearted and horsed around with his friends, like they were back at middle school. She smiled watching Jack attempt to ruffle Jerry's hair and the scuffle that followed. It was so... normal.

"He's different now. Lighter. Smiles more. Opens up more. I believe you are the reason for all this," Milton spoke quietly to her.

"I- I don't know for sure that I am," she finished shyly.

"I do. He hasn't smiled like this or relaxed like this since- Well, it's been a while."

She discovered that Milton had the same snarky sense of humor like her. Jerry when he wasn't playing the part of Jack's crew, was a goofball fond of dancing. There was some affinity between them because of the shared love of music, but Jerry was admittedly an intellectual lightweight.

Milton, on the other hand, was very, very smart. Not like normal, getting top scores student smart, but a certified genius smart. She would never have imagined that Jack, serious and taciturn as he was given his background, would be friends with either boy. Or that Jerry and Milton would be friends with each other. All three were quite different. But as she watched them together it became obvious that Jack was the glue that held them. He was goofy and traded crass jokes with Jerry, and he could talk serious computer and technology matters with Milton.

For her part, she talked music and cheerleading with Jerry and literature and college admissions with Milton. It was so normal, she wouldn't have believed that these boys were somehow involved in a shady and illegal world of underground fighting. But there were reminders. Like when Jerry mentioned the 'chop shops' or when Milton quietly brought over the small phone-like rectangles, one of which was bright pink.

Those were tasers, apparently. They looked like phones and could fit in small purses or pockets. Kim looked at them dubiously, but Jack perked up and showed her enthusiastically how to turn them on and use them. Both were close-range weapons, meaning she had to press it against the attacker's body for impact. Kim swallowed hard imagining sending such voltage into someone.

Milton went on about the specifications of the little weapons and lamented that the standard issue was too low on voltage and needed more time to recharge. She could see the moment he thought of something and stopped mid-sentence to dive for the computer and start typing furiously.

"Don't mind him. He does it sometimes. Probably trying to figure out is he could modify them to be more powerful or recharge faster-"

"On conceal them better. Apparently, a tiny taser could be added to the smartphone. Useful, although if you are taken by force, they probably will strip you of your belongings, starting with the phone first. In fact, I'd recommend that you have a panic button on your person that would be tied to Jack's phone and would allow me to trace you, wherever you are," Milton spoke in that detached manner of the student answering the teacher, but Kim balked at such frank conversation about her potential kidnapping and Jack visibly scowled. But then his face turned pensive and she could tell he was contemplating the whole panic button thing.

"Is it really necessary? I thought that this Amato person won't try to do anything again, seeing as he failed and all," she began unsure and saw all three boys exchange shifty glances. "What?"

"Well, yes, he probably won't, but there is always the next match and, really, it's just a good precaution," Jack said casually and his friends nodded along.

"I really don't think it's necessary," she offered feeling weird to have that sort of level of surveillance, even if she agreed to defer to Jack's judgment on safety issues. Something must have showed on her face because Jack relaxed and nodded along.

"Yeah, you're right. It's a bit of an overkill."

The subject was dropped, but Milton managed to get her to agree to modify her phone case to build in another taser into it. She had relinquished her sparkly and bejeweled case and Milton was almost back to searching something, but Jack reminded him that all planned to hang out, so the research and modifications had to wait. She almost laughed at Milton's disappointed face, but they had planned this, so it was only fair.

Couple of pizzas and a movie later, Kim was stuffed and felt like she had the normal evening with friends. It was surprisingly easy to fall into light banter and conversation with Jerry and Milton. And Jerry was quite obviously taken with Grace. He was not as suave as he thought he was and Kim laughed at the number of times he brought up her cheerleading mates and 'that chic' that was with her at the cafe. She finally had mercy on him and let him know that Grace was equally impressed with him and his bike, which she knew by now was Jack's old Kawasaki.

When they were going home, Kim wondered if the next hanging out could be something low-key to include Grace too. She'd like that.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: This ended up being a very packed chapter.

* * *

Like Grace predicted, Donna hasn't tried anything overt, but she has been cracking the whip all week. _Hard_. The squad had the routine down, but she wouldn't let anyone go home. It was getting late, and it got darker, but when someone bought it up, Donna just moved them to the gym. Kim tried to grit her teeth when Lindsay walked by her, bumping shoulders and scowling at her…

"What the hell is up her ass, Kim?" Grace spoke quietly, just as Kelsey and came from behind. They didn't get a chance to talk as Donna stormed over to break them apart and order them to designated spots in the lineup.

As a flyer Kim headed to the back to stand with the usual bases.

"I'm changing the routines," Donna started with her hands firmly placed on her hips. Gasps and cries of outrage filled the room and echo off the walls.

"What do you mean?" Lindsay squeaked in a panic.

"I mean, you suck, and there is no way we're going to place in the finals if you all keep sucking. I want Scorpions at the end of that last number we just did."

Kim gulped at the thought of being held up in the Scorpion position while everyone was so exhausted. There was no way the team could pull that off tonight without someone getting injured and carried out the door. Her own legs were shaky enough.

"Actually," Donna started up again, "I want to change the music, too, as well as a few other stunts. All of our routines will have to be redone; it's embarrassing to even watch you do them."

"What the hell, Donna?" Lou's voice was especially high and whiny as she moved forward to argue with the captain. "We worked our asses off on those routines, and Sectionals is in two months! No way can we come up with six new numbers and still—"

"Who is the captain of this squad, Lourdes?" Donna interrupted with venom in her tone. She waited for an answer before she continued, and when Lou nodded her head, Donna bit it off. "Then sit your ass down somewhere, _Valez_. In fact, sit out the entire game on Friday. Do not wear your outfit to school. Do not meet us at Phil's before the game. Do not _come_ to the game. If I see you do any of those things come Friday, I will kick you off the squad," she growled. "Now nod your head, and tell me you understand what I've just said to you."

Kim shivered where she stood; she's never seen Donna launch into someone like that, especially a cheerleader. This was unlike her, even when she was at her moodiest.

"Crawford! Get in the position! I want to see the Scorpion!"

"That's it!" Kim called out after finally having had enough of her animosity. Donna 's eyes burned into Kim as she pushed past the others on the squad to get to her. "Go home everyone," Kim said to them over her shoulder. "We have all day tomorrow to deal with the routine for Friday's halftime. Right now, I think it's best we all get home and get some rest."

A collective exhale of breath circles the air, but no one moved yet.

"What the hell are you doing?" Donna hissed under her breath.

Kim glared right back at her, "I'm saving you from fire and pitchforks. You need to calm down."

"I don't need to calm down!" Her voice rose and everyone froze again. "You are not in charge of this squad, Crawford! Do I need to bench your ass, too?" she growled in Kim's face so angrily that she was hardly recognizable.

"Calm your inner bitch down _now,_ Donna! You are bound to get someone hurt!" Kim was prepared to wrestle the other girl down to the ground if she had to; her behavior has gotten ridiculous as of late.

"That's rich coming from you," she scoffed. "You don't want anyone to get hurt. What about Jim, huh? Maybe I should bench you. Then _Jack Brewer_ wouldn't be there to beat the shit out of people. Only you are fooling yourself if you think that he cares about you. His dick got so much mileage, it's a surprise he hasn't gotten something nasty to make it fall off. He only wants you because you're a damn virgin and after he got to punch that, he'd be out. Ask Bianca. And Emily. And Jess. And that's just the ones I know about. And that's the only reason Brett wants you either. To claim that frigid cunt of yours. Enjoy all the attention while it lasts, _Kimmy._ No one would want your used up goods after Jack is done with you."

With that, she turned around and left the gym. It's a dramatic exit, but it was all lost on Kim, who stood there stunned. She was mortified that Donna blasted all this to anyone, who could hear.

At least the practice was over.

"Well, I was right. Donna and Bianca talked and there was a boom..." Grace's tone was somber as she hugged Kim.

* * *

The next day Kim found Jack at her driveway near his fancy Spider. She looked in question at him and he barely spared her a smile.

"Why didn't you tell me that you're being harassed at school, Bambola?" he looked angry and a little upset.

"What? How do y-?"

"Jerry knows about it before I do."

Kim sighed in resignation: of course Grace would tell everything to Jerry. Yesterday, they had hung out together as a group and Grace and Jerry hit it off immediately. Jerry took Grace home and apparently learned a lot about the goings-on of the Seaford High.

"It's nothing, Jack. I'm fine and no one is hurt. It's just words and I don't care-"

"You know that it was just a cheap shot, right? I don't know what Bianca knows about me, and I admit that I have been with many, but you are differe-"

"I know, Jack. That's why I said I don't care. You have other things going on in your life and I don't want you to worry. Donna is upset, but it'll blow off soon enough," she reached up to kiss him.

"Well, I can guaranty that neither your bitch of a cheer captain, nor the fucking quarterback will bother your today. Possibly tomorrow too," he spoke into her neck, where he kissed small kisses.

"What? Jack, you promised!" she tried to pull back to stare at him, but he pulled her closer.

"You'll see," was his cryptic response. There was no time to question him further, but she was on high alert.

When she got to school, she found out that Brett was busted by cops while speeding and they found drugs on him. Their cheer captain couldn't make it to school because her mother got a call intended for Donna about her appointment at Women's Clinic. So Donna was currently trying to explain to her mom that she was not with child and didn't have any STDs.

Grace told her all of this breathlessly and in her tone was a certain amount of admiration to how fast Jack and his crew worked. For her part, Kim was trying to not get too mad that Jack broke his promise to her by interfering in her school life.

"I can't believe Jack would do this... He swore he'd only get involved if I was hurt," she whispered to herself.

"Well, I say, Jack was positively restrained. And, if you must blame someone, blame me," Grace said with a decisive nod.

Kim stared at her friend in disbelief, "You?"

"Yep. I told Jerry that you were this close to falling and breaking something yesterday, because our captain is insane. BTW, you know why Donna was extra bitchy this week?" Grace said and went on, "Apparently Brett turned her down because her goods've been sampled by too many a guy, for him to be interested."

As much as Kim disliked Donna, that was actually hurtful and she winced in sympathy, "What a jerk..."

"I know. Anyway, Donna told him that he won't get much from you since you're banging Dragon and Brett, like, got really pissed and told her that you being a 'proper girl' you'd drag this out long enough that he might get his chance with you after all. Like, he hopes Jack would get tired of waiting and then he'd swoop in."

"So, Brett gets to be with me first?" Kim asked somewhat numbly. The thing was, her and Jack haven't had sex yet and it probably was a lot longer than he usually had to wait. And now Kim was thinking that Brett might actually have only been so interested because 'her goods weren't sampled' yet. She was almost nauseated at the thought. She muttered, "Why does anyone care about my hymen?" At this point everyone in school knew this and Kim might as well post daily status updates.

"It's not even you or your V-card, Kimmy," Grace patted her hand. "It's all about competition. And Donna and Brett are competitive. Right now Donna is in completion with you for Brett. And Brett is in competition with Jack for you."

"That's just so sad. And gross."

"I know. Brett is gross and Donna is pathetic. So, anyway, I told all this to Jerry and, you know, he's kinda very loyal. So am I..." she trailed off and Kim looked at her sharply.

"You... You came up with an idea for the phone call to Donna's house, didn't you?" she breathed in sheer wonder and slight trepidation.

"Yeah, I did. That girl needs to cool off. Brett though, it was all Jerry and Jack."

Kim sat there not sure what to feel. On one hand, she had some very loyal friends willing to defend her by all means available. On the other hand, 'means' available to them included so much, she wasn't sure if she should feel sorry for her antagonists.

It still hasn't changed the fact that Jack went ahead with this idea of payback even though there was no need.

* * *

Later, when they were at her house, Kim finally let her frustration show. Earlier, as Grace was with them, Kim had this feeling that her friend would support Jack. But now they were alone and Jack tried to pull her into a quick hug, but Kim resisted. She stepped away from him and he looked at her puzzled by her reticence.

"Kim?" his voice was questioning. "You're ok?'

She hummed to acknowledge that she heard him, but didn't answer, trying to gather her thoughts. She was irritated that he went ahead with his - and Grace's - idea of handling things. Despite the promise, he did the same thing as with Randy and Jim. He rushed in to handle things for her, instead if letting her do it herself. She tried to give him the benefit of a doubt. It was obvious that he cared and had a very decisive nature. In combination, it probably made it hard for him to stay put. And maybe she was overreacting-

She started when she felt his hand on the shoulder, "Are you all right?"

"Why did you interfere, Jack?" she didn't expect her voice to come out so cold.

"I- I think it's obvious why, Kim," he didn't look contrite, only slightly put off, which only made her more irritated.

"Yes, it's quite obvious. You thought to interfere, to solve my problems, because you think you know better or can _handle_ it better."

He looked shocked, "What? No, that's not why-"

"Oh? So, you didn't think that it would be faster and more expedient to just cause disruption in their lives? That I was not _handling_ it to your satisfaction?"

"Kim... I don't think that at all. I just think that sometimes you are too sweet, too nice-"

"And you are here to be the mean one? To do some heavy lifting for me?"

"Look, Kim, you know my methods are usually more direct and, honestly, you were this close to getting hurt in that practice yesterday," he lifted up his closely held thumb and index fingers, "and the little fucking QB was just-"

"Jack! Brett is all talk. He is hung up me, true, but it'll be over once he _really_ gets that I'm with you for real. His attempt to isolate me from school is childish, but it's hard to enforce with anyone other than his team. So I planned on ignoring him, until he got over himself, but now, with police record, his entire life could be derailed. And Donna? She's a hardass, it's true, but she liked Brett only for him to stomp all over her heart and to slut-shame her in the process. So, she was in a bad place, but more importantly, I stood up to her and no injuries occurred. But now, on top of romantic disappointment, she has to deal with pissed off parents and rumors at school!"

"Did you just- Are you seriously _worried_ about them? After what they've done to you?" he looked with disbelief, but also a degree of awe at her. "See, that's what I meant that you are too sweet-"

"Arrrgh!" Kim actually growled in frustration. "It's not some naive sweetness or conflict-avoidance, Jack. It's compassion and empathy and, maybe, a strategic move. Whether they are good or bad, they have families that care about them. Doing something drastic to them makes more than just them suffer. I go to school with both of them. And they have friends, followers, supporters... I can't constantly be in a stand-off with every single one of them. So, full-on fight is kind of not the best. I'm not you. I don't thrive on conflict."

"You're right. You're not like me," his face slowly lost its incredulous look. "You live in a peaceful bubble full of music and dreams, and I - in a real world, with real bad people of no redeeming qualities." He turned away and she knew he was back in his favorite brooding mood, when he castigated himself for being selfishly with her.

"Are you saying you're one of those people without redemption?" Kim had no idea he hid such low opinion of himself.

"Kim... You don't know what I am capable of..."

"Oh my God! You done nothing but protect me all the time I've known you. You're doing the same with your friends. I know you care about Milton's parents and it's you, and the money that Jerry gets to make, what's keeping Manny's shop going, his grandpa's medical bills paid and-" she didn't get to finish because Jack whirled around to look at her with the most determined expression she's seen so far on him.

"Of course! Guys are my family! And you- You are everything! I won't apologize for wanting to protect you, but I don't want medals for it either!" he roared. "Because this need to keep you safe? It's not pretty and chivalrous. I don't care if that little bitch's feeling are hurt, I don't even care if she's a girl. I don't care that you weren't injured. As if I'd wait until that! If you were injured, I'd do a lot worse than cause an uncomfortable conversation with parents. You would never do something like that. _She_ has zero empathy and doesn't deserve any in return."

Hr walked back to her, face hard and eyes flashing, "I want to rip that fucking footballer's arms off for ever touching you. I want to do a lot worse for making you uncomfortable. I know what he wants from you, Kim! And I'd kill him if he ever tried-" he gulped and his entire body seemed to shake. "You being with me is a gift and I never, ever take it for granted. You- you make the world bright again. I feel again. Not just anger and hate, but wonder and lightness. There is music in my life because of you! And if there are people, who make you worry or upset, well, then, let me take care of them. I would do so much more for you, you have no idea what I would- Non scommetterei su de noi. Non voglio nemmeno una nuvola su di te, Bambola. Non hai idea del sogni che ho fatto su di te."*

Oh, her mind stuttered, Jack's pained words both warmed her and made her sad. He had so many things to worry about, he shouldn't- "Jack-"

In less than two strides he was gripping her arm, spinning her around and before she even had time to speak he was kissing her. His arms wrapped around her as he pushed her into the wall so hard the breath was forced from her lungs.

One hand slid from her back up into her hair where he pulled her neck back so he could better control the angle while the other slid downward until he was squeezing her behind through the thin fabric of the skirt she wore.

And then Kim was kissing him back, her hands wrapped around his shoulders even as the tears were prickling in her eyes. As if he could taste them on his lips, his kisses grew softer though no less probing or intense. He pulled her higher onto his chest, lifting her feet off the ground, and walked her to the counter where he sat her on the edge while moving between her thighs. As her legs fell open the hem began to ride up and he helped it along by rubbing his hands along her bare legs until her panties were visible. He looked into her eyes, silently asking if this was fine and she nodded in agreement.

He pushed her jacket from her shoulders until it fell off her arms and onto the granite. Her top had two overlapping side in the back, but no actual seam and his hand was touching bare skin in search of the closure. Soon enough her top was bunched around her waist like a belt. He released her mouth so that he could look at her unclothed state. Her pale pink nipples were clearly visible through the lacy fabric of her bra and she vaguely congratulated herself for putting on something more alluring that her regular t-shirt bra this morning. He stared at her breasts and she almost believed them to be adequate.

"God, you are so… Bellissima innamorata*" he breathed before capturing her lips again and quickly removing his own jacket as he leaned into the kiss.

Her own hands, used only to hold on tight to him, finally moved and she helped him out his shirt and leaned back to look at him shirtless. She'd never get used to this sight. Her fingers ran along the lean muscles, seeing them jump in response and his hips undulated into her, making her feel him under his jeans.

"Oh, Jack, I- wow," she mumbled in slight awe.

He stepped forward and cupped her cheek in his hand then pulled her in for another deep kiss. He ran his hand down her bare back and eased her closer until she could feel him hard, now against her stomach. Her brain went fuzzy again. He cupped her breast in his palm through her bra as the other slipped inside the her panties to gently stroke along the crease of her bare skin. He began kissing a line down her neck as his thumb stroked the hard peak. When he got to the junction between her neck and shoulder he licked her and she made a noise that was something between a moan and a chirp. She would have been embarrassed but then he chuckled and started to nip and suck his way back up until he was sucking and nibbling on her earlobe, his teeth clicking against her earring, and she was just gone.

"Oh God," She clutched him to her and pulled his mouth from her body and back to her lips. Her hand slipped down and down until she was easing her fingers along the low slung waistband. He rumbled low in the throat and the next kiss was particularly deep.

She was lightheaded and he slowly eased her to lie down, as he kissed her, gently working down so he could expose her bra then paid homage to the hardened peaks of her breasts through the sheer material. As his teeth nipped at her, she gasped, her fingers sinking into his hair as she clutched at him. One of her bra straps fell off her shoulder and he helped it on its way, exposing one of her breasts fully to his gaze before cupping it in his hand then kissing her again, his tongue exploring her mouth as his thumb teased her until her head began to swim. His other hand it's place on the edge of panties and moved to fully cover her, the fingers finding and stroking over her clit.

She mewled in a most desperate way, but his fingers were magic and she was long past caring.

"I want to touch you like this forever, have dreamt of it for so long," he whispered against her ear as his fingers kept moving over her, winding her up and she gasped. "Do- do you want-? Please," he exhaled into her breast. "Let me do this to you, let me take care of you," he breathed again as he tugged her underwear off. "I want to watch you fall apart underneath me," he whispered in her ear. "I want to know how you taste."

Her barely audible and coherent _'yes'_ was enough for him to keep moving until he found the underside of her clit. She had some explorations herself, but this different and when he began to rub tiny circles into the nerve cluster, occasionally dipping into her heat for more lubrication, her eyes rolled back as her entire attention zeroed in on what was happening between her thighs. It felt good, so good, but she needed more.

As though he were reading her mind, his fingers found her center and pushed inside as his thumb continued its slow torture of her clit. She moaned; a low wanton sound that she hardly recognized. He lifted his mouth from her breast to gaze intently at her expression of open want.

His hands left her and she protested with a whimper. He made a soothing noise, before he kissed her again; a long, slow, sensuous kiss that seemed to last forever. He kissed her like they had all the time in the world, like this moment would last for all eternity and he refused to be rushed. He kissed her until her head swam and she began to tremble. Had she been standing her knees would have failed her until she was a drained and insensible mass of flesh at his feet. He was addictive, intoxicating, and just when she thought she couldn't take anymore he ended the kiss and moved his lips downward. He licked and sucked his way down her throat, between her breasts, down her stomach, then pulled her thighs apart and kissed her center. She started and tried to sit up but he pushed her down with a gentle but firm hand pressed to her abdomen as his tongue flicked out to find the swollen evidence of her arousal nestled above her folds.

She gasped and clutched at the edge of the counter as his tongue swept across her flesh, teasing her clit, before he suckled it gently. His hand left her stomach and he gripped her thighs, pulling them further apart as he took his time exploring her. It was erotic torture; this lazy sensual creature between her thighs seemed determined to drive her insane as he performed some arcane magic of tongue, teeth, and lips. She couldn't breathe, the oxygen left her lungs as he teased her with unhurried swipes of his tongue. His fingers moved up her inner thighs and he gently inserted them inside of her; first one, then two. She gasped at the slight but pleasurable sting of being stretched and he looked up, eyes wild and dark.

"You are so tight, I can't even imagine-" he mumbled and she wanted to blush again, but he dove between her thighs with renewed vigor, his lips, tongue, teeth, and fingers acting in concert to bring her to a babbling boneless mess within seconds.

She thrashed and shuddered, speaking in the unintelligible language of passion as he sucked and nibbled at her heated flesh until her muscles tightened and she began to tremble through her orgasm. He kissed her thighs, the scrape of his stubble adding to her pleasure as his cheeks rubbed against the pale sensitive skin. He drew the moment out for as long as he could, the fingers of one hand soothing her goose pimpled flesh as the long, thick digits of the other danced and teased against her center. He watched her unravel with hooded eyes and no small measure of smug satisfaction then scooted up hug her. He kissed her again with slow assurance and she could taste herself on his lips and tongue, but what transpired between them right now made her stop worry about such things and she only returned the gentle kiss, trying to get her bearings again.

Distantly she wondered if this was their first 'fight and make up' situation, but she couldn't even remember why they fought in the first place.

She felt vibrations and realized that he was chuckling. She looked into his face to see the smug and warm expression and realized that she spoke the last part outloud.

"So, am I forgiven then?"

She kissed him in response.

*Non scommetterei su de noi. Non voglio nemmeno una nuvola su di te, Bambola. Non hai idea del sogni che ho fatto su di te (Italian) - I wouldn't have bet on us. I don't want a single cloud over you, Bambola. You can't imagine the kind of dreams I have about you.

*Bellissima innamorata (Italian) - beautiful beloved.

A/N: Jack is in character, no? I think this Jack certainly wouldn't wait for her to get hurt before he intervenes. And she is feisty and tries to push back. Thoughts?


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: This a little transitional chapter. And I didn't want to leave Jack all hot and bothered. I once got a review saying my 'dirty talk' was cringe-worthy, so I try to avoid it, but here I wanted to show off that Kim is a musician... You've been warned, cringe-y dirty talk happens.

* * *

The first step of a tentative plan that Jack and Milton worked out had crystallized when Jerry brought an interesting news. Amato's car was spotted in the garage of one of the outfits that dealt in stolen and smuggled vehicles. Obviously, the garage itself was a front, but Jerry knew what happened in the back rooms. This was the first indication that Amato had criminal connections beyond the underground fighting and the suspected laundering through Truman's development projects.

Jerry easily posed as Manny's Custom Design guy, who needed a special part and while he milled around, he managed to plant Milton's bug inside. Jerry played up his simpleton mannerisms and no one paid him too much mind. It was an incredibly smart move and Jack was quite impressed. Jerry only shrugged with an offhand remark that he might not be brainy like some, but he knew what was what.

The bug was helpful and soon they had enough to alert police to a possible illegal activity taking place. It was satisfying to hear that the place was busted and that Amato's car was among those seized. His people had to deal with the police to get the car back. It wasn't a terrible inconvenience to Amato, but while the car was on the impound lot, Jack planted another listening device. The more information he had the better.

But the best part of the actionable information came from Marco. Amato was a capo, no doubt. His import-export venture was a front to smuggle any number of things in and out of the country. He took weapons abroad and brought controlled merchandize to the U.S. According to Marco, a lot of East Coast families eased up on contraband as the security in ports, especially around New York, was tightened after 9/11. But the West Coast was less vigorously monitored and Amato capitalized on it. If you were willing to pay his price, Amato would figure out how to get whatever you wanted past the authorities and into the country.

He worked with the Mexican cartels to move meth and cocaine into the U.S., and Jack assumed that he also brought in pharmaceutical drugs too. Their market value was insane and Amato was making bank. That would explain the need to legitimize the income. Marco, couldn't get much more clarity on all that Amato was bringing in, because his operation was intentionally opaque, which gave Jack a pause. Drugs were one things, but there were lots of other, scarier things, that people wanted to get past the authorities.

Jack wondered if Massimo Bruneri knew about the extent of the operations of his capo in California. Even he did though, Jack knew that a Don couldn't do much about it. Dons didn't have much control over what capos did in their own wards. Don's main function was to deal with problems that were bigger than one cell. Massimo's power allowed him to settle disputes between capos, which happened pretty regularly. The other main part of Massimo's office was to punish a capo that did anything that endangered the Famiglia, like talking to the FBI or losing a turf war with other gangs. It was assumed that a capo would take care of anyone under him who made that mistake.

As long as a capo didn't do anything that was dangerous to the Famiglia overall, Massimo did not have the ability to tell them how to do their jobs or run their turfs. If a Don did tell a capo to stop trafficking in drugs, or how to handle issues with street level enforcers, Don would lose the support of the other capos. Jack knew that capos' support was the real source of power of any Don. So, the capos trusted Don to only use his power when it was an issue that involved the whole Famiglia. As a result, Massimo couldn't get involved in Amato's internal operations-not if he wanted to stay Don.

Jack and Milton were at the Manny's reviewing all the information they have accumulated. Milton was fiddling with Kim's phone case that looked like it acquired a new lining.

"It has a taser here. I also put a sensor that will go off if the phone is too stationary at a place that is not part of Kim's regular route," Milton explained as he was typing something in the computer screen. "Remember how I said that if Kim is taken, they take away her phone, because she could be tracked through it? So, I thought that could be actually a good tool to have. So, when she is at her usual places, like here, our home, her home, her school or classes, and the phone is stationary, then it's fine. But if the phone is somewhere where she normally wouldn't be and its staying still, then we get a notice."

As usual, Milton's genius was impressive, even if it was applied to such grim scenarios. Since their fight, their physical relationship took a giant step forward. Jack still was reliving their make-out, even if it made things uncomfortable for him. But right now, the real like butted in. The jarring effect of his mind's favorite memory confronted with the reality of his life made him want to protect her even more.

"It's great, but it would be nice to have trace on her if she is without her phone."

"Short of planting a device under her skin, I don't think we can guaranty that," Milton was blunt, but for a brief second Jack wondered if there was way to achieve that.

"You think she'd need all this?" Jack had asked feeling the same dark mood descend on him whenever he thought of all the dangers he exposed Kim to.

"Ordinarily, I'd say you're overreacting, but since we confirmed the Bruneri's and Amato's interest in you, I'd say she needs all this," Milton offered bluntly. It made Jack feel the usual guilt he felt about involving his friend in this too. "She's a more obvious target, seeing as she is your soft spot... How are her self-defense classes going?"

"Well, we're not starting from zero. She picked up steps pretty quickly and knows how to fall the right way, but- But she's not a fighter, you know? And she is too small and not strong enough to fight off people, who mean business. Tasers would help, but her best bet is an element of surprise and just running away," Jack said glumly.

"Well, let's make it so she doesn't have to put her fighting skills to use. I'm working on the piece of code that would disrupt Bruneri's hedge fund trading. We need to get into their mainframe, but I think you can do that, right?" Jack nodded for he indeed had a way to do so. He used an empty shell corporation and used some of his money to place himself as a client. "In the meantime, if what you say is true, then Amato has to lose either a lot of money or catch attention of the federal authorities. That should shake his standing in the organization. I ran analysis on what we heard on the bug from his car. I think he's using a code and, if my hunch is correct, then we can disrupt next shipment from Mexico. If it goes well for us, he'd be dealing with a lot of questions from the government."

It felt good to have Milton help him in this. Perhaps, his mission could be accomplished without too much bloodshed.

In the meantime, Jack could focus again on training for the next match and, maybe arranging more of those moments alone with Kim...

* * *

Last time they were together, she attempted to reciprocate and it was amazing that she still managed to blush while being essentially naked on the kitchen counter. She had only ever palmed him over his clothes before and even those inexperienced touches were enough to drive him hot and ready. He was all about easing her into the physical side of things, reveling in every milestone like he was discovering all this anew himself, but at that moment he was so turned on he was worried he'd just have to take care of it before he tried to walk. So, when a naked and blushing Kim tentatively placed one hand on him, he just prepared to come embarrassingly quick.

He only managed to kiss her, this one a stark difference from light and gentle pecks of just seconds ago. This kiss was hard and unyielding and she whimpered a little. His mind scrambled to string together an apology for his loss of control, but all coherent thought seeped out of his brain as her eyelids flickered open, her gaze locking with his own. She scooted down and he stood up, legs a little shaky. Her eyes were wide and dilated, and she licked her lips slowly before moving her hand from his shoulder to brush first gingerly, then more firmly against the ache in his jeans. He sucked in a breath, his hands moving from her body to rest against the hard granite on either side of her, bracing himself as his knees felt weaken.

Her hand slid to the button and zipper, undoing them and pulling pants open and tugging them, along with his shorts, just far enough down his narrow hips to expose his hard length to the cool air. Her quick glance and an even quicker inhale was the ego-boost he didn't think he needed, but somehow her being impressed meant more than any other praise he's ever got. He bit his lip as she traced one finger from the tip of his erection down to the base of groin and back again. He gritted his teeth at the sensation and used one hand to help wrap hers fully around him, moving slowly to show how he wanted it to be done. By now she was looking at him with those large dark eyes and she pushed his hand off and then her slim fingers closed around him and gave a firm upward stroke.

"Like that?"

"Yeah…" came a garbled answer that was apparently his voice. "Like that... More..."

 _Cazzo,_ this couldn't be real, he thought, unable to stop himself from hissing and glancing down to watch her hand establish a slow, smooth rhythm up and down his sensitive flesh.

"Jack," she murmured, and he tore his eyes away from the sight of her hand on his body, fixing instead on the parted lips of her pretty mouth, which she licked again before whispering, "Have you ever heard of Anais Nin?"

 _What,_ his brain screamed, struggling to process her question when he just wanted to sink into the bliss of her hand working at the aching flesh between his legs. "Who?" he managed to stutter.

"Anais Nin," she repeated in a patient and lecturing tone, and he could swear he felt his cock twitch in her hand. "She was a writer. Famous mostly for her published diaries, but also because she was one of the first female writers to ever explore the realm of erotica."

"Oh," he murmured, one his hands leaving the counter to reach for her body, eager to center himself in this haze of pleasure. _Kim reads erotica_ , a fleeting thought disappeared as quickly as it came. She simply shrugged off his touch, grasping him a little more firmly and continuing on her tangent, in a soft breathy voice.

"Anais Nin once said that the body is an instrument," she spoke gently, all the while her hand moving in a measured pace. Her nimble, but strong, _musician_ fingers moved again, thumb straying a little to explore the underside and veins, probing and touching, all the while her eyes were on his face checking for reactions.

"Did she?" he breathed, his voice husky and low.

"Yes. And like an instrument, the body only gives off music when it is used as a body."

"I don't… Kiiim, faster, please," he practically pleaded with her.

"Always an orchestra, she said, and just as music traverses walls," she paused, quickening her movement till she had him panting and thrusting into her hand, "so desire travels the body…"

He was getting so close, could feel the tension drawing up at the base of his groin. Her other hand joined the other, touching where the other didn't, couldn't touch...

"…and reaches up to crescendo."

"Oh gods, Bambola… please…" he whimpered.

"Jack?" she whispered, her wide dark eyes searching his face, long slim fingers gripping him tightly, "Do you like the way I play upon you?"

At her question, all the tension in his body snapped, and he was moaning and coming in her hand, his release scattered over the pale skin of her abdomen and the floor.

When it was over, he leaned his head into the crook of her shoulder, trying to calm his breath and vaguely registering her movements as she carefully tucked him back into his boxers and did up the zipper. She reached up to smooth his hair back away from his face and he bent in to kiss her, trying to convey his regard and affection for her in his gentle movements against her mouth. A few moments later she pulled away and put a towel in his hand as she used another one to clean herself. Jack found himself unable to stop the childish grin that took over his face as he cleaned the once pristine kitchen that saw so much action today.

* * *

Once the cloud of hazy satisfaction lifted and they cleaned up, Jack left to meet with Milton, but not before more kisses that almost got out of hand again.

Kim surprised herself when she so boldly took him in hand, so to speak. And the things she said... She was half mortified, half impressed with herself. The bit about erotica and playing the body as an instrument came out so seductive that she wasn't even worried about what he thought of her. He certainly liked it. She wondered for a brief moment how she compared to other girls he's been with, but decided that she could only make herself worry over things she couldn't control. He was with her, he liked her, and he liked how she played his instrument.

Despite the unexpected foray into the 'dirty talk' territory, Kim soon began to worry and fret over what happened to her classmates. She wasn't a vindictive person. She genuinely thought that Donna was acting out of hurt and Brett - out of the lost chance with her. She didn't think either of them truly deserved what Jack did to them and her guilt grew as she prepared to face the school in the morning. Some part of her brain, no doubt under the influence of Jack's paranoia over her safety, made her check both her pepper spray and tasers for readiness.

The school still buzzed about Brett's incident with the cops. Lucky for him he had just under the threshold for legal amount* and he was over 18 years old. So, he wasn't cited for possession, but since he did use it and then drove, he's got himself a DUI. Of course, it being his first time, he was looking at the minimum penalties. Still, he lost his license for 30 days, had restrictions placed on where he could drive for another 6 months, and had to pay fines. School was informed and the coach benched him for a couple of games. No one thought it was fare as almost everyone tried pot at least once, but Kim knew that Brett was fortunate. It could have been a lot worse. At least he was too busy to pay any attention to her and for that she was grateful.

Donna was back in school too, a little pale and a lot more subdued. She didn't even engage Kim in any trash talk, only scowling at her and Grace once. The worst part was when cheer coach and a nurse both approached Donna at the beginning of practice. Kim almost laughed at the enraged and then mortified look on the girl's face as she vehemently shook her head. In the end, the practice went on as planned, but not before the impromptu lecture on safe sex and safe exercise practices. To say that Kim was blushing was an understatement. In fact, she blushed so hard, Grace asked her if her asthma was acting up again, which send Kim into fits of cough and hysterical laughter. Of course, Donna caught that and gave Kim a death stare, but refrained for saying anything,

Donna had a stony expression throughout the rest of the lecture and left her ideas about changing routines and adding dangerous tricks for another time.

When the day was over, Kim left the school thinking that maybe Jack had the right of it. Thanks to him, both Donna and Brett left her alone.

*I am keeping the story within the show's timeframe, so it is 2015. Before 2016, marijuana was not legal for adult recreational use. If a person is found with marijuana, anything under 28 grams was not criminal.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Thanks to my faithful readers and reviewers. I truly appreciate your readership.

* * *

Life was busy for Jack. Between dating, sorting Kim's issues, actions to undermine his enemies, and training for the next match, he quite forgot that Grant was preparing another fighter for the match. This one was going to be small scale and would be held at the gym he and Grant trained at. He and guys usually showed up at such matches both for entertainment and support of Grant, and to scope out the competition and general intel gathering. Milton loved to run his algorithm to predict the betting patterns and to adjust his program. Jerry loved to mingle and made acquaintances with nearly all frequent players. And Jack both tried to get his sense on his potential opponents and their tricks.

It was Jerry, who reminded him of the match and that he should bring Kim with him. His first inclination was to simply refuse, but Jerry - in a unusual show of insight - told him to stop being a caveman and pointed out that until now Kim's biggest issues came from her classmates and not Jack's associates.

"Look, J-man, you wanna be all frowny and decide for Kim, then sure, she's your girl. But I know she was mad at us for that cheer bitch and the little QB thing. So, like, you may be fine with having blue balls, but I thought it's better to have her near than far. I'm taking Grace, so Kim'll know and, you know... She told Grace that it's cool that Gracie got her back, but, like, Kim's not a baby, so..."

Jack didn't go into details of his fight-n-make-up story, but Jerry's point was a valid one. After that epic make-out session on her kitchen island, Kim went to school and later confirmed that both the cheer captain and the QB left her mostly alone. But before he could crow 'I told you so' she said in a very serious tone that, while she appreciated his restraint, she still felt like he was testing the limits of the promise to her. And she didn't exactly freeze him out, but she retreated back into herself and spoke little of what went on in school. It was noticeable and he didn't like it.

He heeded his friend and asked her.

"Kim... So, one of Grant's fighters has a match today. Guys and I should go, you know, to support him. Grace too... Do- Do you want to go tonight?"

"Of course I do. You know I'd go anywhere with you," her face lit up and he remembered that she wanted to know about his life.

Jerry was right. Jack didn't want to become a controlling jerk. He did not want her to keep to herself so much. And while he didn't want her to mix in his less than legal life, he knew if she was with him, he had a better shot at taking care of her.

"Okay, so we're going to a fight tonight. Ty will be there and probably Amato too. I need you to stay close to me tonight, okay? I'm not going to leave you for a second but it's important that you stay right with me. We should just sit and watch the fight and leave but sometimes they do crazy shit and… just stay near me, okay?"

She nodded and bit her lip thoughtfully, "Do I have to dress up?"

"Uh, yeah. The girls that come to these fights usually dressed up. But, I mean, anything you wear looks nice, so I'm sure whatever you had in mind will be fine," he gave him a playful roll of the eyes at his obvious sweet talk, but her smile was pleased.

When he picked her up, he had to admit that even if he'd be constantly on alert, at least she was gorgeous. Her dress was dark blue with V-neck that had beaded trim. There was a flounc-y hem with some embroidered flowers and overall the dress was short. But she wore high heels that made her legs look long and her butt perky. She had a little makeup on and her lashes looked impossibly longer than they already were. He stepped forward and caught her as she teetered on a pair of black pumps.

"Thanks."

"You look… amazing."

She blushed and looked down and fidgeted with a small black purse in her hands. He took his Audi, opting for a safety and comfort. It was a silent drive as he held her hand in his. he even used her hand to shift gears just to hear her giggle.

When they arrived at gym, he parked on the edge of the lot and helped Kim across the uneven asphalt. Once inside the heady, humid atmosphere crushed down on hum. His grip tightened on Kim's hand as he was forced into mingling with people he barely knew and hardly cared about. There were only a handful of women in the joint and Kim shied away from their look. He tucked her into his side and leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"I'll protect you."

"I know," she whispered back. He knew logically that these were simply reassuring words, but he had another staggering moment where his mission and his personal inclinations merged: he had to keep her safe. All the skills he honed in his difficult life were the instruments that would keep her safe.

She wrapped her arm around his waist and they were in their own little world. The hazy, smoke filled air swirled around them and the florescent lighting was garish against his eyes. He looked down at Kim to gauge her reaction to the place. She seemed nervous and edgy and resigned. When she looked up at him and smiled, he knew it was genuine. He grinned back at her and kissed her softly.

"We'll leave as soon as we can, okay?"

She just nodded and continued to peer out over the mass of bodies that pulsed and pushed against itself. Jerry, Grace and Milton found them soon and they all began to chat casually in a corner. Kim relaxed and started to have fun. As Jack had promised, he never let her go and always had his hand on her; whether it was resting on the small of her back or holding her hand, he had his fingers on her body. Currently, he was rubbing her shoulders as she stood in front of him and she, and Grace and Milton talked about shows. Sci-fi shows to be exact. Milton talked about the theories and science behind them, Grace talked about casting and actors' work, and Kim talked about music and score and how it was used to the great effect.

Jack had his arms wrapped around her stomach, just below her breasts and his chin on her shoulder, holding her close. As he pressed a kiss to her neck, he heard that grating voice.

"Jack? I didn't expect to see you here tonight. I thought you would still be 'sitting out' the matches. If I had known you were here, I would have sought you out earlier!" Ty' voice cut through their little world and Jack stiffened; gripping Kim to his chest. She squeaked and her hands shot up to grip his forearms. There he stood with a strung out redhead on his arm and two other men standing behind him. I spared Carson a glance and noticed his open gawking at Kim's legs. Jack's arm came up around her shoulders and he tried to move her to the side and even behind himself.

He looked at Ty coldly as they silently appraised each other.

"And you are, miss? I remember seeing you with Jerry. Not a lot of young women like this sport, but I suppose there is an _attraction_ here, although, it does get a little too... real here sometimes. You know, until the best one wins."

"I've been at a match before. I know exactly how 'real' it gets," Kim said somewhat challengingly and Jack stiffened and tried to let her know to keep quiet about her knowledge of the water spiking.

"You don' think that the fights are real? And why is that?" Ty was looking at her with suspicion and hostility and Jack's fingertips dug into her ribs gently, as a warning. A silent plea for her to keep quiet. She was right, but she was going to attract unnecessary attention if she uttered anymore words.

"What? She doesn't know what she's talking about. She meant that it was very real… Last time Carson here was laid out cold, and she was distraught. Right, baby?" he felt her stiffen in his arms but she nodded curtly and he knew she didn't like being spoken for. Despite his best intentions, he sounded like a domineering prick and made her look like the usual insignificant brainless lay. But that was exactly what Jack aimed for: to downplay her significance to him and to kill any interest Ty or his crowd might have in her. Let them think she was just another hook-up. It was emphatically not true, but Kim being important was almost as dangerous as Kim being the witness of the sabotage.

"Understandable. Well, this has been fun but I think we're going to find our seats. This should be an interesting fight, if not entertaining," Ty turned and his small entourage followed him. Carson lingered for a moment and Jack wanted to roll eyes at him.

"Carson, your trainer is that way. You don't want to get lost here," he glared at Jack but said nothing before turning and leaving as well. Jack took deep breaths and inhaled the smell of Kim's perfume. It was a stark contrast to the dank smells in the room. Fresh and breezy, peonies and summer rain, he greedily took her in and felt her grip loosen on his arm.

Spinning her around, he held her face in both hands and kissed her, "I'm sorry, Bambola. I didn't want to do it, but you can't go challenging Ty like that. You know I didn't mean it, right?"

She searched his face and sighed, apparently happy with what she saw. Her lip trembled only a moment before she squared her shoulders.

"You know I didn't mean that, but I had to diffuse the situation. You can't let them know you were the one to overhear their plans and I don't want people to figure out your importance too soon. I'm trying to keep you safe."

"Why is it so dangerous? This is just about the matches, no?"

Kim was looking at him searchingly and in the corner of his eye he saw Milton and Jerry exchange furtive glances. How could he get her to understand without giving away that he omitted a lot of facts of his life? How to get her to understand that, even if Ty was only interested in undermining Jack as a fighter, Amato was far more interested in hurting him and Amato would use Kim without thinking twice?

"They'd use you to get to me. Get me jealous, or unfocused, or irrational. Look, we don't have time for this here, just follow my lead, try to have a good time and lets get this over with okay? We'll leave right after the tenth round, even if it's not over yet, okay?" Jack's explanation was only half the truth and he saw Milton's eyes grow distant at this lie. Kim herself could sense that it wasn't the whole truth, because she looked at him quizzically, as if trying to read him. Jack wiped his face of any doubt and only returned a hard and determined look.

She nodded reluctantly, but hasn't smiled or said anything, "Kim, please, just let this go and let's have a good time?"

Another nod, but no words or a smile. Kim was upset with him.

The match started and they sat to watch. Jack was agitated and it was increasing minute by minute and as the second round came into play his knee was bouncing hard and he was close to just leaving, however he knew that Grant would be disappointed if they left early. So he sat, restless and grumpy, surreptitiously scanning crowd for trouble. He watched as Grant coached his man and Ty was scoffing at the plays. Carson kept shooting glances at them and Jack could guess where he was looking. Or at whom. He leaned closer to Kim and she gave him a surprised look, but at least she didn't pull away.

Suddenly the fight was over. Bobby landed a jab and head butt that dropped Ryan down and out. Jack cringed when he heard the cracking noise from his final blow and had to wonder if this was what Kim had seen when he knocked out Carson in the last match. He hardly felt any genuine remorse: he and every fighter were there by choice, but he could imagine how it made someone like Kim feel.

The result was an upset for many and the room went crazy for a moment and he pulled Kim into his arms. Chairs were thrown back and people began shouting. The roiling crowd was moving like a giant wave and briefly Jack was worried about being swept in. He and Jerry stood up keeping people from backing into girls. It was hardly enough and he wrapped arms around Kim like a cage and folded her into his chest. His shoulders and back were being shoved, so he locked his knees and legs attempting to keep them grounded and stationary through all the jostling. He felt Kim burrow her face into his chest and her arms go around his waist underneath the jacket. He wrapped the flaps of the jacket around her sides in an attempt to shield her from the view of all the pissed off drunk fuckers in the room. He leaned down and whispered to her again, trying to calm her nerves.

"It will be over soon. They'll all leave to get their money and we can get out of here okay?"

It calmed down enough, but he still held onto her. They heard the raucous laughter coming near only a split second before Ty and Carson in front of them. Clearly they made bank and Jack briefly wondered if the fight was fixed.

"Good match, Jack, eh? What do you think of a re-match between you and Carson? I think my boy has something to prove."

Before Jack could say anything, Amato came into view. Jack saw him stumbling towards them and knew immediately that he was pissed. Both pissed off and piss-drunk.

Milton's decoding worked and the latest shipment was intercepted and, while Amato himself was expected to be cleared of any wrongdoing thanks to his lawyers, the loss was a huge blow to his business. He lashed out at his own associates and had to make good on his promised deliveries, which meant he had to find the merchandize in a hurry and pay huge premium. It ate at his profit margin and dented to his reputation. Jack and guys were buoyed by this success and Milton was trying to decipher when the next shipment was supposed to come. Couple more of such losses and Amato would be answering to Massimo Bruneri himself. As it was, he already suspected other gangs of interference and Jack expected a small war to break out soon.

"Well! How are my two favorite fighters doing?! What's going on?! Why so serious?! Did someone die?!" Kim went rigid in his arms; he tightened his hold on her praying he wasn't suffocating her against his chest.

"No, we were just leaving," Milton's calm voice called over them.

"Well, that's too bad! We should go to the Spider's! The club is still open for another few hours and we could all get some drinks!" And then Amato made an exaggerated look of realization. "Oh that's right, you're in school still. Imagine my surprise when I learned that about you, Jack!" Amato was leering and gave Kim a once over. "Well then, I retract my invitation. Don't want to get in trouble with the law for dealing with minors. You should mind that too, Jack," he gave another leer at Kim and Jack was grinding his teeth. He could tell that Kim wanted to speak, but he dug his fingers again and she stayed silent.

 _Stupid! He was so stupid! He shouldn't have brought her here!_

Before he could say anything to this direct baiting, Ty spoke up, "Oh, hey, Mr. Amato. I was just telling Jack how Carson wants a re-match. What do you say? Interested?"

Amato gave such a sharp glance at them that Jack wondered if Amato only pretended to be sauced before, "Ma certo.* I am interested. Jack here is _fascinating._ And every time I see him, there're more interesting facts I learn."

Jack didn't imagine another pointed glance at Kim. They needed to leave. Pronto.*

"Sure, re-match sounds fun. Get in touch with Grant and we'll plan it. But right now, we really need to go. Have a good evening, gentlemen," He pulled Kim up to him and made for a hasty exit. There was far too much going on tonight to hang around. God only knows what would have happen next. A three ring circus of death.

Kim was silent on the drive home. It was obvious she still was upset about him playing off their relationship as a fleeting thing. And she was right to be upset. but he was right too. Because it was about her safety and they agreed that she'd defer to him. But even as he thought about it, he remembered that he didn't exactly keep his end of the promise... Relationships were hard.

She didn't wait for him to open the door of the car and was already half-way to her house when he caught up with her, "Kim…"

She stopped him with her hand and he held his breath for the 'tell off'.

"I don't wanna be mad and fight over this. I get it, I do. Safety, and what-not. But I don't like it. I think you are either overestimating the danger I'm in or you're not telling me everything and I... I don't want to be treated like I'm some flavor of the day. Even if it's only pretend."

Jack nodded. She was right. He wasn't being entirely truthful, but he simply couldn't tell her everything. It wasn't safe for her to know. She also was wrong: making others think she was a non-entity was safer than have them think she mattered to him. She was smart and sarcastic, but Kim was innocent of the true repugnancy of humans like Amato. She didn't realize that the people she was baiting were not known for their level head and sweet disposition. And guys like Amato saw women as toys. Just a pair of breasts and butt to pass the time. Kim was so much more and she didn't know what would happen when she tested that belief. She didn't realize the severity of that outcome. It was his job to protect her and he had the right to do what he thought was necessary. But actually telling her that was a fucking suicide, so he just nodded.

She smiled and leaned up into him and the kiss was sweet and deep. She was pressed to his front and he knew she could fell him growing against her belly. He groaned and dug fingers into her hair and pulled her up to his mouth. She responded eagerly and slipped her tongue in. He kept her connected to him firmly even as she tried to wiggle out of his grip. The movement made her rub against his erection and he tried to decide if making out in his car in front of her house was a merely bad idea or a spectacularly bad idea. One of his hands went to her butt and helped her create that amazing friction. She obliged and moved in a small circular motion making him groan and then...

She stepped away and smiled innocently, taking more steps backwards.

"Goodnight, Jack."

He was left with half-open mouth and fully aroused body. She just did that on purpose! His sweet, innocent girl just punished him! Oh... He guessed he deserved it a little bit.

"Goodnight, Kim."

*Ma certo (Italian) - Of course.

*Pronto (Italian) - Quick, fast.

A/N: So, Kim is suspecting that there is something more going on and Jack is still omitting information. And Amato saw them together... I'm not feeling great about this chapter, but it felt necessary. I needed to show that there is tension between Jack and Kim about his secretive life and attitudes even if Kim doesn't realize the extent of it.


	20. Chapter 20

His encounter with Amato while Kim was present, made Jack redouble his efforts in unsettling the man and his operations. Milton showed his brilliance again when he ran the shipment schedule through his analytics. At first the schedule seemed erratic, not doubt to avoid discovery, but Milton was smarter and he drilled on that using the past records and aligning them with weather patterns, Coast Guard patrols schedules, traffic and even Bruneri Inc.'s sales. What he did discover was that shipments arrived on the days that certain Coast Guard units were on duty. From there, it was a fairly easy to track the officers who were obviously in the pocket of Amato. They had to decide whether they wanted to burn those officers or let the feds figure it out on their own. In the end, Jack made a call: corrupt officer allowed Amato's business to flourish and he dealt with more than just pharmaceutical contraband.

Now that Amato was already on the radar, the next 'tip' was easier to organize: Milton sent an email as if from Amato's company's servers that, while encrypted, was very easily opened and the next raid ruined Amato's chances of making up for the first lost shipment. Law enforcement still woudl have trouble pinning it all on Amato and his business, but Jack wasn't interested in that. As it was, Amato was livid and there were reports of one of his associates engaging a Triad in some high-powered baiting with guns drawn and shots fired. Couple more of such incidents and Amato would have a small street war on his hands.

In all this, Jack remained a shadow figure. He didn't want to die and he certainly didn't want his friends to suffer because of him.

And Kim... He was worried about her safety the most and internally decided to stop bringing her to matches and maybe even stop participating in those altogether. He didn't need the money and lately his anger wasn't quite so overwhelming. it was patently obvious to him that being with Kim calmed him in ways he couldn't quite describe or believe. Instead his rage was like a steady feeling of purpose to eliminate the enemy without the uncontrollable need to lash out. Unfortunately, this newfound level-headedness was entirely lost when it came to Kim and his protectiveness was fierce and encompassing.

Which was probably why he constantly expected of something to go wrong. He told Milton to go ahead and install a tracker on Kim's phone and did the same thing with her car. He also tried to be with her when she was out of her classes, but his own schedule was full enough that he didn't get to be in her presence at all times.

It figured that the problem would occur when he wasn't around.

* * *

As much as Kim wanted to berate Jack for interfering, it seemed to work wonders. Donna and Brett left her alone for the most part. In fact, it could be said that most of the school left her alone now that the epic love triangle or square wasn't going to play out for the viewing pleasure of the public. She was somewhat isolated in the squad, but Donna's bitchy attitude was grating enough that some junior years didn't exactly stick to the master plan and talked to her and Grace. The team generally ignored her and she was fine with that: at least no one was outright hostile.

Things with Jack seemed to calm down. He wasn't acting like her personal bodyguard so much and they had a series of low-key dates where the subject of his underground life didn't come up at all. She knew he trained, but he let it slip that he was busier now - with investments of all things - and was cutting down the number of fights. She could only stare at him in surprise, but it was such a good news that she didn't dwell on his new-found business dealings.

It was Milton, who actually enlightened her as to why Jack was turning down the matches. It had everything to do with her, apparently, because Jack was not feeling the same rage that drove him before. She blushed, doubting her own power, but Milton was sure and told her to keep doing whatever it was that she was doing. That caused her to blush and sputter and she caught Milton's lips curving into a smirk.

Of course the good fortune couldn't last so long and her happy little bubble was burst when she was leaving her training with Grant.

They had classes about once a week and she honestly thought they were unnecessary, but it did give her an opportunity to learn more about Grant and Jack's life before she met him. Grant knew Jack's parents and while he wasn't talkative, he did slip things on occasion. Like the fact that the late Mr. Brewer was quite an accomplished fighter himself, both in martial arts and comfortable with weapons. Or that Mrs. Brewer was genuinely warm person, but there were moments when her anxiety got the better of her and she had trouble sleeping. Or that Mr. Brewer tried to get her to train, but she was adamantly against it. Knowing her fate, Kim thought she understood Jack's own anxiety over her safety. So she applied herself to the classes.

She just left the gym, heading towards her car when someone tapped her shoulder. Still mentally in the class mode, she whirled around, swinging her bag wide and making the person instinctively step back, just as she lifted both hands in front of herself.

"Stay away!"

As soon as the words left her mouth and she caught sight of the person, she wanted to die. It was Carson, the fighter Jack faced last and the protege of Mr. Amato. She had a momentary worry that he was here to hurt her, but then she took in his relaxed stance and she relaxed too. Her surprise at seeing him was great enough that she just stupidly stood there staring at him.

"Kim, right?"

She just nodded at him all the while thinking how did he know that.

"Sorry, I gotta go," she said quickly deciding to end this. She turned to escape but his voice followed her.

"Whoa! I don't want you to go all karate on me," he chuckled as if he wasn't one of the premier underground fighters.

Obviously, he was making a little fun of her. She gave him on unimpressed look and continued walking.

"Look, I'm sorry. I know you don't like me because Jack and I are opponents, but I'd like to introduce myself and maybe make up for some of the shitty things Amato and Ty have done. I'm Carson," he smiled winsomely and stretched his hand.

"Shitty? Shitty? Telling people that someone has herpes is shitty. Lying to your friends is shitty. Not leaving a tip at a restaurant is shitty. Trying to drug you opponent and then fighting him, is just wrong. And you say it's shitty? Some nerve you've got."

He gaped at her for a moment before looking down. She didn't want to wait and turned to walk to her car, which seemed like miles away at the moment.

"Wait..." he walked after her and even lifted his hand as if to touch her.

"Not interested," Kim spoke quickly, while pulling her keys out. Attached to the key ring was a small fob-like plastic rectangle and she touched it with some reassurance.

"Just let me apologize. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt. I never even knew that shit happened until it was already done."

"I don't care. You're friends with those criminals so technically, you're to blame too."

"I'm not friends with them. I train with Ty and Amato bankrolls it. That's it," Carson annoyingly kept up with her fast walk and kept stepping ahead and looking into her face.

"Whatever, I don't really want to talk to you."

"Please, I just want to be friends."

Kim actually stopped for moment and stared at him. Was he out of his mind? Friends, really? She shook her head and then resumed walking.

"This is getting really silly now," she mumbled almost to herself, but he obviously heard her.

"Look, let me buy you a coffee. That's all. Just one coffee."

She was so pissed right now, she simply took the fob in her hands and looked at him in annoyance, "This is a miniature taser. While it's small, it delivers the standard amount of voltage when discharged. If you don't step away from my car, I will use it on you. And I won't fumble seeing as you are standing so conveniently close."

They looked at each other for a loaded second and then he lifted his arms in surrender and stepped away, "Ok, ok, you win. I gotta say I didn't think Brewer would go after such a feisty and good girl. Normally, it's just easy girls for a night with him. But, I guess I can see an attraction..."

His tone was suggestive and she she frowned, "Keep talking like that and I will be testing this on you."

She got into the car and drove off, seeing Carson in the rearview mirror looking at her retreating car with a smirk.

She debated mentioning it to Jack, but decided that he and his hair-trigger protective jealousy would not deal well with this information. So, she decided that since she handled it herself, there was no need to distract Jack.

Unfortunately, Carson showed up again. It happened after another class with Grant and this time he simply walked with her and talked as if knowing she'd simply shut his any attempt. So he talked about growing up poor, and having little going for him other than being athletic. How his father's illness made him give up any college hopes and going into this world of illegal fights as ways of making money.

"I didn't know what they were going to do. I have to keep this gig. My dad's hospital bills are killing me. He had a stroke a few years ago and he needs a helper all the time now. I don't expect your sympathy but this pays well. It pays enough that I don't have to send my dad to some shitty home somewhere and I have good hours so I can be with him. Please, I had no idea what they were going to do or I would have stopped them, or warned Grant."

Kim tried to avoid looking at him, but at this she did. His eyes were pleading and Kim sort of believed him, "And what do you want with me? You know this looks bad, right?"

He shook his head and grinned at her. His eyes twinkled and at that moment he looked so young, "I thought it was obvious."

"Yeah, not gonna happen. Bye, and leave me alone or you'll be the test subject!"

She made a beeline for her car, unsettled slightly by this. She wasn't so vain as to think it was about her specifically and didn't Jack tell her that people might try to use her to get to him? Upset him? Make him jealous? She guessed she had to tell Jack now.

Only there was no need. As usual, her luck didn't quite bear out...

* * *

Jack was waiting for Milton's email to catch the attention of the feds. If they followed up as Milton expected them to, then Amato's operations would be crippled as the 'friendly' officers would be out of the picture and Amato would have to bribe new ones or become extra vigilant again, which would mean slowing down his trades. Unfortunately, waiting was boring and unsatisfying and he was a little restless. He used the time to establish a more robust communication at the Bruneri trading desk. It was his way to get into their servers. Once he became a preferred customer there, he was sure any of his communications would be open and downloaded, which was all Milton needed to set his code roam.

He was so pre-occupied with that, and because he hadn't taken on any fights, he didn't come to visit Grant quite as regularly. He knew that Kim kept up her training and he trusted Grant to keep her safe. So, he was quite shocked and surprised when he decided to stop there to see how the training was going. It was their agreement that he woudl not train her himself. Mainly because he couldn't bring himself to do anything that woudl hurt her. So, he arrived just about when her session would have been over and he saw her car in the lot. He had to park farther away and by the time he reached her car, he spotted her being followed by someone.

Only it wasn't someone. It was Carson. They were obscured by her car, but he could hear her well enough.

"Not gonna happen. Bye, and leave me alone or you'll be a test subject!" Jack was already running towards them when she added, "Agh, dammit, let go of my bag!"

"Look, I just wanna talk-"

Jack rounded the car in time to see Kim pull on her bag that Carson was holding. Before he even had time to wonder why Carson was after Kim's bag, he saw her kick Carson repeatedly in the shin. It was surprisingly satisfying to see, but her shoes were just little ballet flats that did little damage.

"What the fuck?!" he didn't event scream, but it was enough to distract Carson for a second.

Kim yanked the bag out of Carson's grip and jammed the taser that was apparently on her keychain into Carson's neck. He hit the ground twitching, and she stepped back and groaned in annoyance.

"I told him that I would test this baby on him," she sighed, blowing her hair out of her face as she let the taser drop. "And you know he probably thought I was bluffing. How typical of male gender... And this is the second time I warned him. How stupid is that?"

"I don't know," Jack said still not sure how to process the fact that Kim just electrocuted a guy three times stronger than her. "Wait- Second time? He cornered you like this more than once? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Please, look at you, Mister 'I let my fists do the talking.' It's one thing fighting in the ring, it's another to commit assault and battery," Kim practically snorted and picked up her bag and continued. "But I was planning on telling you today. For the record, this is the second time. And he didn't try to grab anything of mine before."

If this was supposed to calm him, it didn't work. Jack was still in fight mode, but Kim dealt with Carson so neatly that he was left with little to do. Then he stopped and repeated it again.

 _Kim dealt with Carson to the point that he was lying on the ground and she was left standing._

He had a surge of pride to add to his adrenaline rush and he simply pulled her into his arms and kissed this amazing girl.

"You're amazing," he told her once they parted lips. "And hot."

"It did feel kinda awesome," she admitted and looked at him from under the lashes. "You're right about self-defense and tasers. I didn't freeze up and Milton's little toy delivered."

He kissed her again, inordinately glad that he had the foresight.

"Let's go somewhere less public," Kim suggested and he started steering her towards his car. It was faster after all.

They started walking, but Carson finally shook off the worst of the jolt and began to stand up.

"Carson, I'm not going to beat you for try to put moves on my girl. She obviously took care of that. But that re-match you wanted? It's happening and you better be ready."

With that he threw a hook at the guy sending him down again.

They got to his place, the house quiet as Milton was at Manny's and his parents still were traveling. He didn't even notice the small throb in his right hand, but Kim did.

"You hand!" she grabbed it and inspected the slightly swollen knuckles.

"Is fine," he said, but she already was grabbing the first aid from his bathroom. "Just do it," he sighed, his lips twitching upwards despite himself, and held out his arm.

She focused on her task, her tongue trapped between her teeth as she cleaned and wrapped. Her loose blonde curls brushed against his face as she carefully administered to him and his nostrils filled with the heady scent of her shampoo and the smell of peonies. Her hands were gentle as they handled him, an apology for the sting on her lips before she'd even applied it to his flesh.

He was used to pain, the small sting of the alcohol and betadine a mere nuisance for him. No, the real torture was her: her smell, her touch. The earlier adrenaline and pride in her transformed into an overwhelming desire for her and he nearly bit his own lip to sit still.

"There! How's that look?"

There was no conscious thought, no internal debate, no hesitant look followed by her silent approval. He reached for her, pulling her body flush with his own as he claimed her mouth. It was hard and almost punishing, but he knew by now that she'd keep up. She mumbled something about his hand, but he plowed through and devoured her. He cupped her head in one hand, his fingers sinking deep into her light blonde hair, tugging and allowing the silken strands to wrap around his calloused fingers.

He laid her backwards gently as he covered her tiny frame with his own, his mouth never releasing possession. The hand at her waist moved upwards to cup her breast through her thin shirt. She whimpered and the sound ripped through him causing him to lose what little sense of restraint he still had.

He pulled away from the kiss to pull the shirt up over her head then unfastened the hooks of her bra and discarded it. He kissed the pale mounds of flesh each in turn, teasing her nipples with his tongue and teeth as his fingers found the fastening of her jeans. He pulled them down without ceremony along with the plain white panties she wore, breaking away just long enough to snatch the small flats from her feet so he could let the last of her clothing drop to the floor. Jack held back for just a moment to look at her, his angel, her hair a mussed halo of light around her head, and her body flushed with newly awakened desire. He slanted his lips over hers again, his body seeking connection with hers and he hitched her thighs up around him so he could grind his hips still in boxers into her center.

She gasped, both hands pushing at his chest as she felt him hot and heavy against her. The hands on his chest moved all over the bares skin and he moaned plaintively, his desire too strong.

"Bambola, to voglio cosi tanto," he whispered and she looked up, adorably confused. "I want you so much, Kim. So much..."

"I'm yours," her eyes weren't confused any more, but he stilled.

"Kim..."

"I know. I want you too..."

"It's going to be your fir-"

"Shhh, I know, but- This is a good moment to. I don't need some grand romantic gesture. And at any rate, you made plenty grand gestures-"

"Bambola..." there was only so much fight he could put up when they were like this.

She reached up and kissed him, "Jack, please..."

Her plea was followed by a hand that snuck into his boxers and those nimble fingers began that tortuous dance again. He thrust into her hand and cursed, "Oh, fuck, Kim..."

Jack could feel her heart pounding against his chest in desire and anticipation. He pulled away from her slightly, jaw clenching as he forced himself to remain still against her even though the only thing he could think about was sinking into her over and over again until he drove out all of his demons. In all his experience, among the dozens of girls who'd shared his bed, he'd never taken a virgin. But then again, he'd never had to wait this long for sex. He'd never had been with the same girl twice. He'd never... Kim was the exception to all of his usual rules and he was too far gone. Even though he knew his life was dangerous, he'd already had a taste of her and he would have rather faced an army with his bare hands than stop at that moment.

"If you don't want this you need to tell me and I'll stop," he told her, his body vibrating in protest as the words left his mouth.

He watched as inexperience battled with desire in her beautiful eyes.

"Tell me," he commanded his eyes dark and almost hypnotic as he willed her to answer in the way he knew would bring them both to completion, "Yes or no?"

"Yes," she said softly and he nearly growled in joy as he claimed her mouth once again.

His rough fingers reached down through the thin curling strands of bright silk that did nothing to hide her from his gaze as his mouth claimed her tight pink nipple again. She panted roughly as he licked and sucked at her breast, his teeth scraping until she was half undone by the near painful sensations being awoken within her. He slid his fingers up and down, barely skimming the cluster of nerves that would ensure her readiness for him as he sucked hard at first her right nipple then the left. Her movements beneath him became more frantic. He took her mouth, whispering against her open lips, "That's right, Bambola. Come undone for me. Show me." He gathered moisture from her center and found her clit.

She bucked underneath him crying out, her eyes opening wide as he brought her closer to the edge, her fingers moving to join his to direct him. He looked up into the stark wonder of her face and something dark began to curl in his belly. "Have you ever touched yourself? Here?" His finger swept over the sensitive bundle of nerves and he chuckled as her eyes slammed shut and she moaned wantonly under his touch. "What do you think about when you touch yourself? Tell me?"

"You," she breathed and he felt his cock jump at the admission.

He took her mouth in an almost brutal kiss as his fingers increased the friction on her clit. He swallowed her cries as she orgasmed, a flood of moisture making his fingers slick. She shuddered and writhed in release beneath him. Releasing her mouth, he pressed their foreheads together as they both gasped for air. "Jesus," he panted, "you are so beautiful. You have no idea do you; no idea just how goddamn beautiful you are?"

She tilted her mouth upward, her lips meeting his in a soft kiss. He moved his lips to coast along her jawline before making his way across her chest and down her waist. He eased off the cot and stripped off his underwear then took a moment to gaze at her most intimate and exposed self. His eyes caught hers and the dark desire he saw there was nearly his undoing. He bent at the waist, pulling her thighs apart, and swept his tongue over her folds, wet and glistening under the florescent lights from her orgasm. His senses filled with the taste of warm musk as she cried out, whimpered, and panted through the sweet torture he was now administering.

He brought a finger into her opening and carefully probed her as he licked and sucked at the sensitive bundle of fibers above. God, she was tight. He continued to explore her as he came up with a game plan. He wasn't the kind of man who felt the need to compare the size of his dick with other men in order to prove himself but he knew he was fairly large and that this wouldn't be easy for her. He'd have to take this slowly. He added a second finger and she hissed, stiffening not in pleasure but in discomfort. He eased back up the cot, his fingers still buried within her, and he kissed her softly in apology. "I know, Kim. I know it hurts but we're going to take this slow, okay? Tell me when."

Slowly her muscles began to loosen and he began to gently probe her once more. She winced slightly but he continued to sooth her with soft kisses and gentle words until she was again moving her hips to the rhythm he set for her, brushing her clit with his thumb to bring her added pleasure. After a while he added a third finger and repeated the process, careful not to tear or bruise her, until his hand was again slick with her juices. When he felt she was ready, he removed his hand from between her thighs and settled himself until he was in contact with the now vacant space.

The ingrained habit of using protection made him reach for the night stand and when he eased into her, he had condom on.

Her fingers gripped his shoulders tightly and he spoke, "It's okay; I won't go further until you're ready. We have all the time in the world." He reached up, easing her hands downward until they grabbed his hips and kissed her once more. He waited until the pressure of her grip loosened and again pressed forward, repeating the process inch by inch until the final barrier was passed and he was finally seated fully within her.

For a moment, they just breathed. He stopped, allowing his heartbeat to calm. He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against her shoulder as he calmed the beast within him that wanted to simply take that which he now knew belonged to him and him alone. He could hear the low hum of the air-conditioning, and the uneven tempo of her breathing. Slowly he began rocking his hips, in and out, his thrusts gradually deepening until she was gasping more from pleasure than pain. His jaw clenched as he felt himself being squeezed within her walls, the sensation almost overwhelming. He tried to keep himself centered, tried to hold off the rush of his own release, but it quickly became apparent that he would not last long enough to give her the full measure of her first experience he had desired to. That would have to come later.

He increased his strokes, pushing deeper and deeper, his mouth open in a silent cry as the blood rushed to his head and he unleashed within her. She cried out as well, in pleasure and feminine triumph if not orgasm, and he shuddered until he was fully spent.

He eased onto his down pulling out of her as he drew her into his embrace. He felt her sob against him, overwhelmed by everything they had done and felt together.

"Are you okay?" He asked softly, kissing the top of her head, the guilt and self-recriminations already coming to bear. What had he done? Christ, what the hell had he been thinking? He looked down at her tears and swallowed, the first flares of panic erupting in his chest. Shit, what if he'd hurt her more than he realized? "Bambola? Answer me; are you okay?"

She nodded against his chest, her breath hitching as she spoke in a small voice, "I'm good, you?"

His head tilted back as he snorted in relief. He lifted his head smiled down at her, a rare and beauteous thing, "Oh, I think I'll live." He took a deep shuddering breath and pulled her tighter against him. "You are going to be the death of me, you know that? You snuck in under my radar, took place in my heart and you attract danger like a magnet. Now what the hell am I supposed to do?"

A/N: I don't know what happened, but this ended up being over 5K. And smutty. I'll change the rating after this chapter to M. After this, well be kickin' it (ha!) into a high gear.


	21. Chapter 21

If possible, Jack's protectiveness over Kim grew stronger after their intimacy. He couldn't quite articulate why, but the final of physical intimacy made a difference. He never put too much stock in sex: the act was always a merely fact of life and something he needed as he needed the exerice. It was enjoyable, but not enough to make him seek it all the time. He appreciated that he was attractive to women and he certainly was attracted to them, but it was almost superficial in its nature.

But with Kim it was entirely different. If he were to parse it out, he'd have to admit that it was his feelings for her that made the act meaningful. And, of course, there was the fact that she treated him as more than a guy with a strong body. To her he wasn't merely an instrument for fight and sex. She cared for him. And it was amazing.

He wanted to prove himself to her and have her orgasm while they had an actual intercourse, but she was too sore and, upon learning that, he didn't even feel smug. In fact, his entire being was both melting from some sort of incoherent desire to see her happy and need to make her comfortable. She mumbled something about being sticky and he sprang into action to help her clean up and the shy trust she showed him, when she let him clean her, sent thrill up his spine and put a tender smile on his face. He found himself subconsciously catering to her, whether it was drawing her a bath or bringing her an Advil - he was making sure she was okay.

The thought of her not being okay was invading his mind and sending him into an irrational panic. What would he do if Kim weren't okay? What would he do if she were hurt? Would he even be able to help her? What if he wasn't there and her tasers didn't help? The squeezing in his chest and the way his stomach dropped at the thought made him frown deeply and trying to devise a schedule where Kim was never fully alone.

"You okay? You got all quiet all of a sudden," she spoke from the passenger seat as he drove her home.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just… I was just thinking. You doing alright?"

"I'm fine, Jack. It's not even that sore anymore," her smile was equal part reassuring and embarrassed.

"If you keep blushing like this Grace and guys will know in one second flat," he said to change the subject from his paranoid thoughts.

"Oh... I didn't even think... Oh, no..." she had a panicked look and he laughed at her. He wouldn't tell her that Jerry assumed that they had sex already, knowing his reputation. Or that Milton gave him a lecture on treating her nice as if he was her father. Or that Grant promised to hurt him if she was upset.

They parted with kisses that were more tender than passionate and he watched her walk into her parents house, where he knew Milton had enhanced the standard security. The alarm signal that would be sent to the security company's switchboard would also be sent to Jack's phone and Milton's system. More or less satisfied that she was fine at the moment, he went back to the gym, where he all but ordered Grant to set up the re-match with Carson. Grant was a little miffed that Carson so blatantly sought out Kim, but Jack was understood the reasons. Carson liked Kim - that much was obvious. But making a move on her was a surefire way to get Jacks attention, to unsettle him. He would be jealous, angry, irritated - all things that led to poor focus. It was a good move, but they miscalculated with Kim: she wasn't a passive object and knocked out Carson flat.

By now, she would be popping on everyone's radar. He was with her exclusively for longer than would be his norm; she was seen with his people; she's shown to have enough fight in her to get anyone's attention. Which was why Jack wanted to get the re-match done and done. That would resolve the 'official' business he had with Amato. After this, he decided he'd take a sabbatical from fighting. He needed to focus on his mission: the sooner he'd be done with that, the sooner he could go back to the kind of life he now could imagine for himself.

The life that involved Kim.

His next stop was Manny's where he found Milton working on his homework simultaneously with coding. Milton often did that: he said once that his mind had to do something mundane, which what English homework was for him, while somewhere in the background it worked out a piece of code. Jack told him about the total and absolute success of the miniaturized taser and Milton was predictably happy with his own handiwork, impressed with Kim and worried about her.

"She is fine, though?"

"Yes, she is. She is resting home now," it was about as far as Jack was willing to go.

"Resting?" Milton sounded out. "She didn't have to fight him, did she? Why does she need a rest?"

"Because she does," Jack was firm, but when Milton opened his mouth to ask more, he added more forcefully. "Milton. She needs rest. She is not hurt from her altercation with Carson, let's leave it at that."

He could see the moment a penny dropped because Milton's eyes widened slightly and then he blushed, "Oh..."

They sat in silence for a moment.

"Did you do something romantic? It's not a weekend..."

"It was a spur of the moment kind of thing," seeing his friend's expression, Jack hurried to add. "I mean I tried to slow it down. I even told her that. But she said she didn't need a big romantic gesture and that the moment was perfect as it was..."

But as he said, doubt started to gnaw at him: was she truly fine with it? Did she want something more?

"All the more reason for you to do something now. She is clearly not pressuring you, but I think it won't go amiss if you do. This is you first girlfriend and it wasn't only the your first together, but also her's. I mean, I'm not well-versed with teen girls myself, but popular culture suggests that it's a big deal."

"There aren't any good classical music concerts around this time and expensive dinner is kind of normal..."

"A gift maybe? Something she'd like or something that captures what she means to you."

The thought stuck with Jack and after visiting Sapere Solutions office, Jack found himself in an upscale antique shop in Seaford Towers. He browsed, but was hopelessly lost and eagerly told proprietor that he wanted a special gift for his girlfriend and that price wasn't an issue. The woman smiled indulgently and asked to describe Kim. Not her physical appearance, but what she liked and what was she like. Jack stumbled how to render everything that he knew abut Kim and how she made him feel in words and ended up sounding like half-poet, half-fool, throwing words like radiant, understanding, caring, musical, lovely, delicate and gorgeous...

It was enough apparently for the woman was looking at him with misty eyes, "Ahhh, young love..."

She turned to go behind a case of jewelry. The kind of jewelry that didn't belong in a place like this but rather in Tiffany's or Cartier. He watched as diamonds and gems glittered. She held up a choker, letting the light hit the ruby's before shaking her head and setting it back down. Jack's eyes followed the sparkle of something light pink that was placed back into the plush black velvet, He looked over and saw it. The perfect gift for Kim. He pointed to it and the woman pulled it out and up. Now the sparkling and delicate piece was lying by itself, not competing with other jewels. It was gorgeous.

"It's truly is an antique piece, dear. From Italy. It's a hand carved coral in the shape of the-"

"Peony," Jack finished for her.

"Yes. _Peonia._ A rose without thorns. That's what Italians call it. It is believed to be a symbol of discretion, but also a traditional flower to be given to your love. They are considered a delicate and romantic flower and for this reason they are often chosen for wedding decorations. And in China it is official emblem and it's tied in deeply with royalty and honor. The Chinese name for peony even translates to "most beautiful."

"She's all of that. Most beautiful, delicate, trustworthy..."

Jack stared at the pendant in the shape of a pink-red peony blossom, with separate petals and little dots of diamonds sitting like drops of dew. The back of the pendant was made of gold and the jeweler extended some of the gold into lower petals of the flower. The entire effect was that of the actual beautiful fresh blossom, but the gold and diamond gave it the extra chic quality. The intricate craftsmanship involved was obvious because of the size of the jewel and the artist made sure to follow the natural veins of color in the coral. The pendant was everything at once: natural and artful, fresh and timeless, delicate and strong. It was so… Kim.

He just nodded before pulling out his wallet. The woman grinned and nestled the necklace into a large lacquered box with silk lining. It was pricier than he expected, but it was worth it. She was worth it. The woman assured him that pendant had appraisal papers, but Jack waived it off and paid for what was truly an amazing gift that still paled in comparison to everything Kim gave him.

 _He loved her._

* * *

The next couple of week could only be described as bliss punctuated by the renewed training and the slow destruction of Amato's supply line.

Jack could absolutely confirm that sex when you cared about your partner. Kim was... perfect. They were perfect. The newfound intimacy was everything he could hope for. She was still very innocent and learning, but she was such a willing student and beyond the physical, he felt like they connected so much more. She trusted him. With herself, with the most intimate part of herself. It was staggering to realize. When he presented her with the pendant, she was reluctant to take it at first. Her stuttered explanation boiled down to two reasons: it was too expensive and she didn't need to be paid for her virginity. He used all of his eloquence, such as it was, to convey to her that this trinket - yes, expensive, but ultimately just a thing - wasn't what mattered. It represented his own loyalty, his gratitude, his appreciation of everything that she was and everything she has done for him, to him. Kim was obviously touched by his speech and they made love with her only wearing the pendant.

At first Jack was worried about Carson and some retaliation against Kim, but the other guy never showed his face near gym or popped up where Kim was. Still, he didn't relax and sent Jerry to get a scoop on Carson's training. What has transpired with Kim obviously spurred him on, because according to Jerry, Carson was training hard and Jack should expect a real challenge on his hands.

By the time the re-matched approached, all three - Carson, Ty and Amato - had an ax to grind against Jack.

Milton's communication finally gave results and Amato lost three more shipments. He was scrambling to organize another routes, as his own export-import business was now being fully reviewed by customs and FBI. Amato was snapping at people and lost his enforcer, who he suspected tried to unseat him and leaked information to the feds. He was wrong, but he wanted results.

Jack didn't think Amato would have time or inclination to come to the match, but Amato enjoyed the brutality of fights and often recruited guys into his organization from the ranks of fighters. Besides, according to the recorded conversations that Milton's bug was still picking up, Amato was very much obsessed with Jack and bet a sizable amount on Carson's winning. His presence at the match was guaranteed.

Jack wished he could persuade Kim to stay away, but she calmly showed him her pepper sprays and tasers and told him she'd be there anyway, even if she had to sneak in after he already left, so there was no point. He capitulated when she pouted and kissed him in the hollow below the ear and whispered 'please.'

* * *

Somehow this match felt different to Kim. Maybe it was because of what she heard of Carson's manic preparations. Or because of her own altercation with him. Or because she learned that Amato was obsessed and she knew he wasn't above dirty tricks.

Or maybe because since they made love, things changed for her. She felt his emotions when they were together and she knew how much he cared for her. And she cared for him. So much. With him, she's learned that she could be fearless, and sensual, and caring. She knew he wanted to stop fighting, since the rage of before had no longer burned in him, and she was so happy for him. She hated that he had to go back there and fight someone with everything to prove.

There were fifteen rounds scheduled at three minutes a round and one minute intervals between the fighting. The whole fight would only take an hour, assuming neither of them managed a KO before time ran out.

A large digital clock was propped against a corner where the three minutes were being counted down. She watched Carson's stance shift only slightly. Had she not watched Jack 's sparring the before she'd never have caught it, but she did and so had Jack. In the span of a second his fist shot out and connected with Carson' face. Carson stumbled but caught himself and spit out a mouthful of blood before bringing his fists back up and advancing on Jack.

As if his impatience was winning out, Jack made to strike again from the right but at the last moment feigned left and struck Carson once, twice, three times in the ribs. Carson bowled over and Jack pushed him into the ropes while bringing up his knee and kicking him in the stomach.

Carson grabbed Jack leg by the knee, hooking his arm around it and using it to keep his balance. Before Jack could push him off, Carson grabbed his leg with both hands and twisted, causing Jack to turn at an awkward angle and fall to the mat. Kim sucked in a breath but didn't cry out like she wanted to.

Jack rolled quickly and flipped himself up onto the balls of his feet just as Carson' fist flew out toward his face. At the last moment, Jack pivoted but not fast enough. Carson clipped his ear as Jack grabbed his arm and threw him down. The canvas banged loudly and Jack shook his head, clearing it as Carson stood.

The bell rang again.

Grant had a stool down in the corner before the bell stopped chiming and Jack sank into it. Grant checked his ankle and nodded his head when he concluded it was fine.

Round two started much the same as round one had. They circled each other watching, waiting for an opening. Carson was the first to break and lashed out with a kick. Jack grabbed his ankle and yanked Carson off balance, pulling his leg past his torso and then landing an elbow into the side of his kneecap. Carson cried out and Jack pushed him back almost causing him to fall.

Jack pushed forward before Carson had his leverage and grasped his neck with his left hand, delivering a series of Sunday punches to his stomach. Carson, having no way to deflect, pushed back against Jack engaging him in a clinch, effectively cutting off any room in which Jack might have been able to hit him. Jack must have expected him to do so because while Carson was pushing him further, Jack side stepped causing Carson' weight to pitch forward. Before Carson's body had gotten a foot from Jack , Jack looped his arm around his neck and brought Carson' back flush against his chest. Before the crowd knew what was going on, Jack threw a hay-maker kidney punch. Carson gasped and his eyes went wide. Jack looked demented as he threw Carson away from him and growled.

Carson doubled over and grasped the ropes for support as the bell dinged, signaling the end of the second round.

Once again Jack sat on his stool and Grant slapped his back, grinning wildly.

"He's going to win." Grace whispered.

As soon as Jack took a step away from his corner the bell rang and they were in motion. Carson bum rushed the mat and came at Jack with a vengeance. She saw Jack 's arms come up at awkward angles and she wanted to run to him.

They both went down to the canvas and Jack rolled quickly, coming to rest on top of Carson. They were a flurry of fists and legs, as each one kicked and drove punches. Kim's heart beat so fast she thought she might have a heart attack. With one fluid motion, Carson rolled over onto his stomach and Jack straddled him punching his shoulders, his neck, his kidneys.

Carson bucked him off and scrambled to his feet just as the bell rang ending the round.

Her eyes flickered over Jack and noticed the red welts blooming on his torso. His face was beginning to swell but there was no blood yet and she breathed out a little. Once more they faced off and the bell rang. Unlike the first few rounds, they now rushed each other. Carson slammed Jack into a corner post and pinned his hips down with his knee. Jack reacted without intent and threw his forearms out in an attempt at blocking the blows. He wasn't fast enough… With a crack, Jack 's head whipped back and lolled to the side.

A strangled cry escaped her lips. She shook violently as Jack was pressed against the post, Carson driving jabs and power punches into Jack's chest.

Grant was screaming behind Jack, yelling directions at him and urging him to move. With a movement so minute, so basic and unimportant, Jack planted his feet flat on the mat and I knew he was plotting. How he could be thinking with all the movement above him was startling to imagine, but his arms were tensing and his leg was sliding up slowly. He was scheming a move that would surely give him the upper hand or get him out of his current spot. And then Jack 's thigh came up and nailed Carson in the crotch at the same time he grabbed a fist full of Carson' trucks and threw him to the side. With terrifying speed, he hit Carson where his liver should be and dropped him to his knees. The bell rang and Jack stood up and made his way back to his corner.

The fifth round gave way to the sixth, and by the tenth round they were both bleeding and bruises were beginning to show. Carson looked feral and Jack looked possessed. They were both going to kill each other before this was over. When the bell rang and started the tenth round things were getting ugly. Amato was now up and about the ring, yelling things at Ty and Carson. From the end of the eighth round to the beginning of the tenth, Amato screamed at Carson to end the fight before the fifteenth round.

Jack and Carson were circling now, looking for the best available points at which to strike. They were tiring out and the fight was going to end soon one way or another.

The eleventh round began and Jack was the first to swing. He dropped Carson to the mat with a cross that had me wincing. How were his hands not fucking broken from all the punching? How was he still able to do all this? It seemed like a lifetime had passed in a matter of forty minutes.

While Carson was down on the mat, Jack fell over him hard, straddling his waist and hitting him wildly. He showed no finesse, no rhyme or reason to his hits. He was losing control. Carson brought his arms up trying to protect his face and neck. When Jack pulled back to deliver another brawler, Carson's arms shot up and pushed Jack 's chest in an attempt at dismounting him. Jack moved back some but his legs were hooked around Carson's torso so they both rocked forward. Before another move could be made, Jack dropped his chin and rammed the crown of his head into Carson's face. With a resounding thwack, a spray of blood shot out coating Jack 's hair and Carson flopped back down on the mat. Jack stood and backed away, his breathing harsh and his eyes wild.

Amato and Ty froze for a fraction of a second before they both began yelling at him to get up. Jack grabbed Carson by his arms and hoisted him up to his feet, then pitched him back so that he fell against the ropes. He sagged and leaned against them, a bloodied fist holding the spot between his eyes that had just been nailed. When he dropped his hand, she could see the skin on his nose had split open and was bleeding freely down his face.

Tension was mounting. The fight was winding down. There were only four more rounds left.

The bell was going off again and Carson seemed to have come to his senses during his minute reprieve. Carson moved a second before Jack did. With a confusing flurry of arms and legs, they were both punching and kicking. Jack threw his leg up and out, his knee coming up to hit Carson in the chin at the same moment Carson brought his arm up and his elbow down, connecting with the soft spot between Jack 's neck and shoulder. Each of them fell back and rebalanced before circling.

The crowd had gone wild a few rounds back and there was no order about them. Yellow slips of paper were being waved around as they shouted profanities; a small sea of angry, greedy people who had everything and nothing resting on the outcome of this fight. They looked angry, worried, afraid, excited. They were a mob out for blood. They were like a living organism in their entirety; all in motion. Grace was saying something to Kim, close enough that she should have been able to understand but her eyes were fixed on the two men trapped in that ring. It seemed that her whole world was at stake in there and she couldn't afford to miss a thing.

The bell tolled again and this time both fighters were noticeably slower. Covered in sweat and blood, they tiredly circled and watched with weary eyes, anticipating the next move. Carson lost his patience first and came forward to deliver a strike. His exhaustion was evident when Jack easily dodged the move and threw a combo into Carson' back and side. A few seconds later and Carson was landing a kick to the side of Jack 's head.

She whimpered when he hit the mat and groaned. A pressured shriek was building in her lungs when Carson advanced on him. He pounced and straddled Jack but before he could land a single hit, he was bucked back and thrown to his side. Jack grabbed his ankle and drove a knee into his hip, pinning him down with one leg as his fist came back and sucker punched him. The loud bang of Carson' head hitting the canvas sounded like a light tap in the cacophony of screaming voices and stomping feet on the aluminum bleachers. The bell rang and it was over.

Round thirteen was nothing but tired circling, round fourteen was three minutes of clinching. When round fifteen started the room got quiet. Only a dull thrumming of hushed voices and the occasional groan or creak of metal grinding could be heard.

Grant's face was white and solemn. Amato was the loudest person in the room, he was still yelling at Carson angrily, ordering him to end this fight and not make him out to be a fool.

The sound of the bell made her jump and stop from retching. Grace's grip on Kim's forearm was almost painful. Her nails dug into her skin and her fingers shook.

Jack stood slowly, rising up to his full height and bounced a few times, shaking his hands out, his wrists lax and his head twisting from side to side in order to alleviate the coiling of his muscles. With a resound nod of his head toward Carson, he brought his fists up close to his chest and didn't move. He was done circling, he was going to let Carson come to him.

Kim didn't move. Didn't blink or breathe or think. Her skin was cold and clammy as she just watched and prayed.

It didn't take three minutes. It didn't take two or even one. Carson took one step forward and Jack met him half way, a fist flew out, a leg went up, a torso turned and before the crowd could see the final blow coming, Jack turned his body to Carson' back and threw a rabbit punch to the back of his neck that dropped him to the ground. Carson didn't get up. He didn't move, only the faint rise and fall of his back was testament to his life. Ty rushed the mat, towel in hand and it was all over.

Grant was beside Jack in a flash, arm slung around his waist, holding him up. It was over. He was still standing and it was all over.

The stands erupted into shouts of anger and joy. Amato stood silent and pale his gaze fixed on Ty turning Carson's limp body over. The room thinned out quickly, people leaving to get their winnings, others leaving with nothing. Carson was being pulled off the canvas gingerly and Jack was helped down the side.

Kim stood quickly, wobbling on the stupid heels she had worn and kicked them off. She flew off the bleachers only just barely making it without tripping and breaking neck.

He was there, he was standing, he was coherent and alive and breathing and solid and whole and he was everything that she never thought she needed or wanted. He was broken and perfect and violent and kind. He won, he came out of there alive and he was staring at her now. Grant was asking him questions, but he was looking at her. She could feel the tears streaming down her face. She could feel the violent tremors running through her body but all that mattered was the pair of deep hazel eyes that were boring into her. A small group of well dressed men sauntered over and began to clap him on the back and while they obstructed our view of each other, Jack never moved. His gaze was fixed on her and when the men showed no sign of leaving him alone, he pushed past them roughly. Kim was in motion as soon as she saw him come into focus and rushed forward to feel him. To have that physical proof that he was in fact alive, breathing and okay.

 _She loved him._

A/N: And Jack is out of the underground fighting circuit, but not without paying his pound of flesh. And they both realized they love each other. Next chapter expect more drama.


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: Thank you all your kind words. It is an incredible compliment when you say that I inspire you. Also, a bit of housekeeping notice - I usually post on Mondays and Thursday.

* * *

It was an eerie reminiscence of the first time she found Jack, minus the knife wounds. His entire body seemed to be bruised and she and Grant gingerly helped him to the car. She insisted on a visit to a hospital, but apparently, that was a no-no. So, the ragtag group dragged to Manny's and Kim had a flashback of that first evening again. There was a cot and a giant medicine cabinet, which she confidently opened and started pulling out the supplies. Grant was much better suited for this though, as his field experience during his deployments taught him a thing or two. He easily diagnosed bruised ribs and general contusions. He said something about monitoring for possible internal bleeding, but didn't think it was the case this time. Jack probably would need to see a dentist at some point, but luckily none of his teeth were knocked out.

Obviously, the massive bruising and black eyes would have to heal on their own, as the busted knuckles, but overall, he wasn't in bad shape. Jack was waiving off all the concerns and Kim only had so much patience with his antics. He had to recover and take it easy and she enlisted Milton in making sure he did. Luckily, Milton's parents were back and she was assured that Jack would stay put.

The realization about her feelings for him was enormous, but she didn't want to reveal just yet. She wasn't sure if he felt the same and even if he did, would he admit it? Jack clearly had some issues with trust and articulating his own emotions, unless it was anger, and she didn't want to complicate things between them.

But the knowledge that she loved him was there and it bathed everything in a new light. She held on to that feeling, her secret, tenderly and wondered how her life would have been different if she never had that flat tire.

* * *

Now that Jack was not expected to go and fight and, especially because he was still recovering, they dated like carefree teens they were. He was still busy with his business, which apparently involved a company where he was a partner and which was some sort of information and technology provider. Kim remembered his knack for technology from the times she saw him and Milton interact and was secretly pleased that he had interests besides an extremely aggressive sport and dangerously fast driving.

So, he spent time at Sapere Solutions and a lot of times after their dates ended he went back to Manny's to meet up with his friends. She joked that for all that they hang out in the mechanic's shop, none of them had the tell-tale rough and blackened fingers nails of true grease monkeys. Jerry had simply laughed - why would I touch a car part if I don't have to? - and Milton primly told her that modern cars involved more than just a wrench and a bolt. But Jack's face clouded for a briefest of moments only to clear in his normal 'I'm almost smiling' look that softened his normally intense mien.

Her dad was more or less resigned to her seriously dating Jack. She had an uncomfortable conversation about not undermining her future, which she took for her dad's attempt at the 'birds and the bees' conversation. She gently told him that mom already took care of that. And, not that she told her dad, but she basically put a time out on their sex life while he recovered.

Her dad didn't even mind that Jack drove her around in his fancy and fast vehicles, because lately there was more and more reports of street gang violence that was spilling from LA into their quiet town. Dad speculated that there was some sort of turf war going on and urged Kim not to stay out late and avoid being alone.

She told Jack of her dad's near approval of him, if only because he would be an additional security for her and, not surprisingly, Jack solemnly confirmed that he was up for the task. She brushed it off as two men in her life being macho protective, laughing at the notion that Jack would have to defend her in any way. But the truth was that, though Jack left the fighting circuit, his reputation must have been wide-spread. What else could explain the wary looks they sometimes got?

She supposed those who knew of Jack's fighting prowess, were made nervous in his presense. And even if people didn't know of the fighting, Jack was commanding, yes, harsh sometimes and not exactly warm towards most people, but he was not intimidating or even scary.

Not towards Kim, he wasn't.

* * *

It was in Jack 's favorite restaurant on a Saturday night that they met Mr. Amato again. Per usual, Kim hardly spoke to him, surprised as she was by his sudden appearance.

Kim didn't see him at first, not when he was walking towards their table, not when Jack stiffened next to her, and not when the man casually sat down in their booth like he's been invited and started chatting to Jack about business and shipping of all things, mentioning someone named Andrew Burns.

Jack was eerily silent for most of the conversation, apart from a few clipped answers and Kim sat quietly after her brief _hello,_ feeling half forgotten, at a loss until Amato unexpectedly addressed her, complimenting her on her eyes.

"Why, Jack, aren't you a lucky boy to have eyes like that looking at you with such devotion?" the man gushed, making Kim feel slightly self-conscious. "What I wouldn't give for a pair of eyes like that."

"Leave."

It's the first word Jack has spoken in what seems like minutes, but it cut like a knife, icy and sharp. Kim eyes flickered to Jack's face, finding she hardly recognized him, so dark was his expression.

Amato hummed, seemingly amused, and stood, "Pleasure to meet you, Kim Crawford. I'm sure we'll meet soon again. Oh, and Jack," he paused, smiled, "I'm glad to see you're taking care of yourself. You were left an orphan so early..."

He left and Jack's eyes didn't leave him until he was out the door. Jack, phone already in hand, was typing fast without looking.

"Jack?" Kim asked, voice small, pressed, and Jack blinked, shaking his frightening expression off like a veil.

"Sorry," he then murmured, pulling his attention back to them, to the meal.

"What was that about? What business could you possibly have with him?"

"It's nothing really. Just something that Sapere did a while ago," he answered without answering. "I think he's still pissed about the match."

After that all Jack would talk about was the fish and how it goes with the sauce and that Kim would have loved it with a particular wine from Veneto, where his dad's family was originally from. Kim listened with only half an ear, distracted trying to quell the uneasy feeling left by Amato.

Later she googled the name Andrew Burns and was swamped by tons of results. Narrowing it to 'California' and 'shipping' left her with one stranger result. An Andrew Burns in the Coast Guard had lost his position and was being questioned by the police for being involved in the contraband shipment. It made no sense to her and she didn't know what to think of it.

* * *

She didn't follow up on her search, but later, Andrew Burns was identified as a body that was washed up on the beach, bloated beyond normal recognition.

* * *

The first indication that something was wrong presented itself on the night she had to carve out from her tight schedule. She was preparing to participate in a young pianists competition in New York, which was akin to scouting event for some of the best schools in the country. She trained for it as if it were Olympics, her dream of San Francisco Conservatory of Music spurring her on. They hardly had time to see each other, busy as they both were.

Jack had reserved a table at one of the best restaurants in the city and they ate, immersed in amiable conversation. Or at least Kim was, enthusiastically talking about her choice of music piece (it was Stravinsky, the technical difficulty being the main objective), until she realized Jack's attention had drifted, his sharp eyes pinned somewhere over Kim' shoulder where the entrance was. Something flashed in his eyes, too quick to decipher but unsettling nonetheless.

Blinking, Kim turned to follow his gaze but Jack grabbed her hand, squeezing gently and when Kim turned back around to face him there was no trace of that odd expression left on his handsome features.

"I'm sorry, Bambola," Jack pulled her hand up, gently placing a kiss on her knuckles, "I thought I saw someone from the gym. You were saying?"

Kim didn't give it a second thought.

They left the restaurant and walked to the car, Jack's arm casually slung around her shoulders. Kim snuggled into his side, relaxed and slightly giddy at the thought of spending some time with Jack alone tonight. He was fully healed after all.

Jack was driving his Audi, which was a deference to her dad, who still disliked Jack driving a Spider. She fiddled with the music stations, but once they were actually driving on the dark, mostly empty streets, Jack seemed tense again, distracted. He looked into the rear-view mirror too often and his fingers seem to clench around the steering-wheel every few seconds or so.

"Jack, are you sure you're alright?"

Jack visibly relaxed the set of his shoulders; his fingers ghosted through Kim's hair for a second, a familiar, comforting gesture.

"Well, since you're asking, I could do with a change of music," he quipped, jokingly mocking Kim' choice of apparently no-so-groovy-tunes.

Kim smiled and leaned forward to change the station. It was then that the other car collided with them. The seat belt dug into Kim' neck as they were catapulted towards the window and she cried out, half in pain, but mostly in shock.

An accident, she thought, half a second before the car slammed into them again. She braces herself, clawing at anything, possibly crying out Jack's name as the car swerved dangerously, threatening to swivel. Jack was cursing in Italian, unintelligible, as he tore the wheel around and pushed on the gas.

They raced through the streets and Kim didn't open her eyes until she felt the car stop. She snapped them open when a hand curled itself around her arm.

Jack's hazel eyes, too bright, too sharp, looking her over, "Are you alright? Did you hit your head?"

She shook her head, trembling, still in shock.

Turning around, she tried to get a better look of the street behind them. It was empty, no car in sight. Jack had maneuvered them into a dark alley it seemed.

Kim huffed in relief at not being dead, "What the hell was that? Were those people trying to kill us?"

It was not a serious question, of course not, when was it ever?

Her mind was already coming up with all kinds of scenarios which would explain the other car spinning out of control and hitting them. Her thought process was derailed when headlights flashed in the dark behind them and Jack leaned over to her side, opened the glove compartment and pulled out a gun. His other suddenly held a wicked sharp knife.

Kim stared at it all in shock, her mind refusing to acknowledge what her eyes were clearly seeing for a full five seconds. By then, Jack had already dislodged Kim's seat belt and opened her door, pushing her out of the car and towards the alley. He got out on the other side of the car, facing the street, gun aimed in front of him.

"Kim, go towards the back of the alley," Jack's voice was clipped. Kim stared at the set of his shoulders, the practiced, confident way in which he held the gun, finger on the trigger, "Now!"

She flinched, stumbled back on unsteady feet at the sharp command. One step or so until her mind snapped back and she realized what Jack was doing.

"Jack, no-" she hissed fearfully, only to be ignored. Jack's focus was completely on the street, on the approaching headlights. With ice in her stomach Kim watched his finger on the trigger tighten.

The lights approached- and passed by.

The street fell into darkness again. It wasn't the same car.

Kim sagged in relief.

Jack didn't. Wordlessly, silently, he made his way towards the street corner, still ready to shoot. Like he expected ... assassins, and not some drunk driver or teenagers. Kim stared at his back, somehow unable to get herself to move. She dully wondered if maybe she hit her head after all, hard -but the sick feeling in her stomach grounded her in reality.

After minutes, Jack finally returned. He pulled out his phone, dialing, in the same motion that he tucked the gun into the back of his pants.

Wrong. Wrong, this was wrong, Kim' sluggish brain supplied belatedly. Everything.

This was not normal. People had guns in their cars, she knew this. Jerry owned a gun. And Jack implied that the fighting circuit was dangerous - hell, she found him half dead - but he was out of that world. Wasn't he?

But... even if it was related to the dangers of the underground fighting, it could only be some sort of retaliation, an act of intimidation. Yet what shocked her was how he reacted to the hit and run. Jack was acting like those people in the car were trying to kill them, which obviously, they weren't. Obviously. Right?

It was not that though. It was Jack. It was like... his whole being had shifted somehow, his movements, his eyes. He was used to having a gun and knife in his hand. He was prepared to use them both. Both looked natural on him.

The sick feeling in her stomach intensified. Her blood was rushing through her ears, too loud, too fast. She couldn't concentrate what Jack was saying to whoever he was calling, and she was caught off guard when Jack's hand wrapped around the side of her neck.

She jumped, breathless and frozen for a split second. Then, Jack tipped her chin up, gentle, ever gentle, worried eyes seeking hers and when Kim blinked her Jack was back, nothing but worry written on his features.

"Kim, breathe out. Do you need your inhaler? Breathe. It's safe." Air rushed out of her lungs, deflating her. Jack's hands closed around her arms before she could so much as stagger.

"Milton's going to run the check on cameras to see who it was. Come on, let's go."

Not a word about what just happened.

Jack ushered him towards the car and she went, like she was on autopilot.

Jack kept his gun on him while he drove in silence.

* * *

Their plans for some time alone shattered as Jack had to meet with Milton to go over the camera feeds and Jerry was the one, who took her home. Kim tried to ask more questions - why was anyone still trying to hurt Jack if he was out of the illegal sport? - but Jack was firm that there was nothing to worry about, that it was merely a disgruntled opponent or someone, who lost a large bet because of him. He kissed soundly and thoroughly, making his friends look away and her blush profusely, but ultimately, he sent her home with nothing more than reassurances that this would not happen again.

She tried her luck with Jerry, remembering how he told her about Jack's other life in the first place, but Jerry was uncharacteristically tight-lipped and even told her that J-man's orders were clear: deliver her home safely and come back.

She thought in circles about all that she saw and heard and gingerly typed Amato's name into the search engine. She only found the most general of information, but when she looked at his businesses, her eye caught the blurb about a shipment seized. Dinner conversation came rushing back and she tried to recall the name that was mentioned then too. Frustratingly, she could not remember, but it was connected somehow, she knew it.

What was Amato implying during that dinner? She now wished she paid more attention. There was that part about her and her bright eyes, which she dismissed as a cheap trick to discompose her/. There was that name that she couldn't recall. There were the shipments, which apparently were seized. And there was mention of Jack's parents. Or rather their absence.

The uncomfortable feeling in her stomach intensified and she wasn't so sure she should dismiss it as merely an attempt to get to Jack. Jack's parents died a violent death. Something to do with the home invasion gone wrong and their murderers also perished in the attack. Her mind went in circles. Were their deaths connected to Jack's current life? Was Amato connected? Why bring it up? What was Jack's business with Amato?

She thought that Jack's trauma over his parents' deaths channeled itself into fighting, but she thought he was getting better at it. Obviously, it wasn't getting better if his reaction to a possible hit-and-run was to draw gun and prepare for the gun battle.

She could hardly sleep, when she heard slight scraping from her window. Heart pounding hard, she pulled the curtain for find Jack balancing on the outside.

* * *

Jack didn't expect such a direct assault. All he knew of Amato suggested some finesse in his style, but maybe he was desperate. The FBI was on Amato's tail constantly and the new shipments had to halt. Amato scrambled with smaller batches, meanwhile trying to weed out a leak in his own organization. Other gangs sensed the weakness and pressed their advantage encroaching on what was traditionally Amato's territory. News of the daily small skirmishes were coming fast and even Jack was surprised at the bloodshed. He knew Milton was squeamish about it, but firmly reminded himself that these men brought it upon themselves.

Jack figured that Amato was testing him when he mentioned the lost shipments and his general bad luck that seemed to follow him even since he entangled with Jack. He knew that neither he nor Milton left trails. The only connection between them was the underground fighting and Truman's attempted sabotage. At least officially. So, when Amato invited himself to the dinner and made some pointed remarks about Kim and his parents, Jack figured it was bluff and bluster.

Then came the news of the biggest skirmish to date, where Amato's men, plus the chop shop crew he used, squared off against the Chinese Triad and there were lives lost. This was probably the first time Jack suspected that Amato might have some evidence of Jack's involvement. The chop shop crew might not connect Jack to Jerry, but Amato would. Jack told Milton to kill the feed from the bug installed in Amato's car just to be safe.

But it must have been too late because they were attacked not two days later.

He felt it with his hind brain that someone was watching him and he scanned the dining room of the restaurant to see where the threat was coming from. Nothing and no one stood out, but it was only because he needed to focus on the small hidden signs. He took another more deliberate sweep of the room and saw, just a fraction, a man watching him directly with a calculating look.

Cursing, Jack tried to arrange something to counter a possible attack. He alerted Milton that he needed to monitor the streets that he'd take after leaving the restaurant. He wished he was alone so he could deal with the man immediately, but Kim was there with him and he pretended to be the attentive boyfriend.

He could feel Drago rising again as Jack receded into the background.

When the car was hit, his emotions now far more complex than simply anger, buffeted his mind and heart, but Kim's whimper of _Jack_ as she was thrown forward from the impact, snapped him into reality. Drago, cold and calculating, took over. He executed an impressive 180% turn to avoid further collisions, sped along the quiet street and wedged into the narrow alley way. The placement was strategic: this way he was ahead of his pursuers and they didn't expect him to be armed. He ordered Bambola out of the car, momentarily chagrined at her stunned and fearful expression, and took the position with a gun and his trusty blade in his hands. Whoever was coming this way, they would have to come through him first.

He ended up not using his weapons after all. His attackers didn't follow him, but he was going after them himself. He called his men and sent Bambola out with enough half-truth to explain the situation without revealing the ultimate truth, and then he got to work. He needed to know who was stupid enough to come at him and Bambola.

Milton's preparedness was always welcome and he didn't disappoint again. It turned out that the chop shop crew where Amato took his cars, the one involved in a skirmish with the Triad, were the ones to follow him after the restaurant. Obviously the car they drove was not easily traceable, but Jerry recognized one of the men in the car. So they - and Amato - made the connection between him and Jerry and they retaliated.

His choice now was to let it go and pretend he wasn't behind Amato's misfortunes or to respond in kind.

The Drago in him wanted blood, but Jack wanted Kim safe first and foremost.

As if sensing his hesitation Milton spoke quietly, "Kim's going away on that competition. She'd be out of town for a good week."

It was a good point, but still, he worried, "What if they'd follow her?"

"That would be spreading his manpower too thin. He already lost some foot soldiers. He can't afford to sent people after her. Besides, I can create a diversion. I can have several Kim Crawfords travelling out of LAX to multiple locations."

"Do it."

"Jack... I know you don't want her to kno-"

"No, Milton."

"Listen, she'll have questions. She's bright and she'll try to connect the dots herself."

"And I already gave her my story how this is still connected to the fighter's circuit."

"Jack-"

"Enough."

"Fine, but consider this: she must be terrified right now. At the very least you should calm her down, show her that you're fine, instead of planning your next war game."

As usual, Milton was right and Jack went to Kim's house, knowing full well that he'd have to lie to protect her.


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: They talk about the car chase and Kim's vague suspicions. Jack's still note telling her everything...

* * *

Kim stared at Jack for a second before stepping back. Her thoughts, chaotic and inchoate, roiled and she just wanted to have more time and more information to make sense of it all. To figure out. The gaps in her knowledge made any and all of her theories silly and improbable.

Jack slid into her room with the easy grace of the athlete and Kim couldn't stop herself from checking his body for ... anything really: wounds or hidden weapons. Because it was something that Jack would have on him.

As usual Jack was hugging her close, his hands gentle on her person, but she tensed anyway - the memory of the gun and the blade fresh in her mind.

He noticed and pulled back, looking at her searchingly and she didn't imagine that shadowed look in his eyes.

"What is it, Bambola? Are you hurt? Afraid?"

He didn't mean that she'd be afraid of him, but she rushed with the negation anyway, "Nnno, not of you. Just-" She gathered her scattered thoughts, "I didn't know you owned a gun. Rather," she added, "I didn't know you carried it with you at all times. Is it- Is it really necessary?"

It's not at all what she wanted to ask, but she started with it.

"Many people have guns, Kim. Jerry does too. Nothing to fret over. It's merely a precaution and protection. You've heard the news. Carjacking and robberies... I'm sorry I overreacted and scared you," Jack smiled gently and his tone was sweet and caring as ever.

Kim honestly didn't know how to react. Probably because she didn't know what to react to. Still, she went on, "Yes, I get that, but- Jack... I mean, guns?"

His face darkened and he stepped back, "Kim, my parents, they were killed. Their murderers used guns. I- Call it coping, if you must, but I feel safer when I'm armed."

That shut down any further inquiry and Kim almost cringed at being so callous with his feelings about the huge loss, but her confusion - her questions - remained.

"But those people tonight- You acted that they were specifically after you. Were they? Are you in danger? I thought you were done with fighting."

"I am. I was. Listen, I'm hardly responsible for actions of some idiots," he was getting more and more pissed the longer she asked him questions, but her own need to know and stubbornness made her go on.

"B-but, you were ready to- to use a gun and a knife against them?" somehow the idea of Jack, someone who she knew was not afraid of getting bloody, using more than just his bare arms was staggering to her. It fractured the image of him she built up: a guy, who only fought in the ring, or in defense of others...

"Kim, they tried to run us off the road! I fully expected them to finish the job. It was self-defense."

Again, nothing she could argue against. And yet...

"Why was Amato so weird at that dinner? What did he mean about his shipment? Was he talking about those that were seized?"

She could tell that Jack didn't expect it and his jaw got that clenched look, where he was obviously biting his tongue.

"Like I said, I don't know what is going on in the minds of other people, Kim. Amato is mad at me for losing. He lost big at the match because he bet big-"

"Jack, you said at dinner it was something your company did! Which was it? Just the match that Carson lost or something else is going on?" once she started talking it seemed that she couldn't stop.

"I told you already! It was about the match! He is a creepy dude, who once tried to poison me, if you recall!"

"So your company wasn't involved? Why did you tell me it was something Sapere did?" she was trying to keep her voice quiet, because she really didn't want to alert her parents that he had company.

"I did it because I wanted to stop your questions," she could see that he immediately regretted his words.

"So you lied then?" her voice was hollow and her heart dropped low. Did he lie to her? She couldn't process it beyond the immediate hurt at that notion.

She saw his clenched his hands into fists and the mulish expression on his face would have been funny, were they not in the middle of something so heavy, "No. Not entirely. Marco, the guy who actually runs Sapere, did some work on Amato account. So I threw it in, because it was just as likely that he was there because of that, but now I know it wasn't."

It- made sense. It made more sense than she wanted it to. She felt like something was still missing, like the jigsaw puzzle was missing a large piece and she would never have a complete picture, but she only had this gut feeling to go on-

She saw him open his mouth and she hastily asked, "And why did he mention your parents? Jack, was he involved in- you know?"

She only thought of it fleetingly earlier, but it was back now and it was enough. Was Amato responsible for Jack's parents' dea-?

With a sinking feeling came realization. Jack, her anchor, her love, could be in danger. Suddenly everything faded. And everything was wrong. Kim felt like she was going to be sick, that's how scared she suddenly felt. Her heart soared from the pit it was in, when she thought he might have lied to her, and lodged itself in the throat making it hard to breathe. Each heartbeat felt like it was going to explode out of her body. Clammy hands, twisted in her shirt's hem, was the only movement her body was capable of at the moment.

"Are- Are you in real danger from him? Did he do... something to your-?" she forced out, breathless.

Jack was silent for a moment, weighing something and she held her breath. Then he sighed.

"He did not," Jack said, too harshly. "He wasn't involved in my parents' death. Those people-" his eyes were hard and his face twisted into a cold mask, "they were dealt with. They are dead. _They'll_ never bother me again."

There was something, something fleeting and dark that she couldn't put a finger on, a flicker of cold deep inside her. Jack was ... he was harsher and far more fearsome now than ever.

He was looking at her, but his mind's sight was cast somewhere else and she knew, of course she did, that was seeing his parents. Didn't he tell her he found them?

Oh god... What it must have been like for him...

And here she was - bringing it up again!

"Jack," a mangled whimper of distress escaped her and he visibly startled, his eyes finding hers, really looking her and she could see the shadow receding from them.

In one step he was close to her again, this time she willingly went into his embrace, feeling wretched that she brought up the bad memories.

"I'm sorry- I shouldn't have. It's just he, Amato, was so creepy and he mentioned- And tonight, these people- Jack, I was terrified... Tell me, are you in danger?" she was practically hiccuping at this point, fear for his life and sorrow over his loss blanketing her.

"No, Bambola, I'm not. I told you, it had to do with the match. Those punks in the car? They are just some low level car thieves. They bet huge against me and my win lost them a ton of money. They are just reckless kids, I promise," he was talking and placing quick kisses on her head.

"You sure? How can you be sure?"

"I'm sure. Milton had them pinned and Jerry recognized them."

She sagged in relief - these were just some pissed off guys, thieves sure, but not hardened criminals - and tried to breathe through the rush of emotions.

"That won't happen again, I promise," Jack kept talking.

There was a solemnity to his tone and she reeled again, looking at him with wide eyes, "You- You aren't going to- _confront_ them, are you?" But even as she said it, she remembered all the times he did punish people: Randy, Jim, Donna, Brody. And she was genuinely in danger tonight- "Jack, no! They are crazy! Look at what they tried to do already!"

"Kim!" she could see the fond frustration in his face. "You remember? You agreed to defer to me when it comes to your safety."

"But I wasn't the target!" she said feebly and she definitely didn't miss the same shadow creep over his face.

"You were in the car," his voice was flat. "You were thrown forward so hard, I bet you'd have a bruise from the seat belt. You were so scared, you were practically hyperventilating. And they knew you were in the car, so the way I see it, your safety was compromised."

His tone left very little room to argue. Nothing she could argue against really. She felt like she lost the momentum in her quest for knowledge, but she was exhausted. Her emotions and thoughts completely overwhelmed her, going from excitement to fear to suspicion to fright to abject guilt, and even more fear for his safety, all in quick succession, and she was exhausted.

"No, no, you can't, Jack," she mumbled, but her breathing was shallow, the events of the evening catching up to her, robbing her of the ability to draw proper breath and she sagged into him, his solid and warm body.

"Bambola, baby, Kim-" he hugged her close, cursing when she only could whimper another _no._

Cursing he swept her into his arms and laid her on the bed, joining her there and she let go of the stress of the day in hot tears and shudders that wracked her body.

The room grew silent and she felt his hands still against her hair.

"Bambola," he said at last, his voice thick with emotion. "Open your eyes and look at me." She felt him tug gently at her hands. "Please."

Reluctantly she allowed him to pull her hands away and she looked up at him, her cheeks red with humiliation. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm just…I'm just tired. I'm so sorry. I-I was so scared. I am still scared. You-you... Jack I've seen you bleed! You're strong, but you can't stop bullets or cars," she tried to look away but he held her tight and she felt more tears escape the corners of her eyes. "Please, Jack, don't. Whatever it is you're planning, whatever it is you aren't telling me, don't do it. Please," she begged. "Don't—don't die…" she couldn't look at him. Her stomach burned and her nose began to run. She wiped at it with her hand and wished she had a tissue.

"I won't die. I already promised you once, baby," he used his used his thumb to wipe her tears away before speaking. "Don't worry and don't apologize," he said, his lips pressing against her temple. "I'm the one who owes you an apology," he leaned his forehead against hers and took a deep breath. "I'm so sorry for dragging you with me and I promise, I swear to you, I'll keep you safe."

"Don't— just please don't…" she started to pull away again but he held her firmly, his head still touching hers. "I don't need your promises. I need you. I want you safe, Jack. Please, don't go after them. You don't have to fight everyone. Can't you be happy to be alive?"

He shut his eyes tight, "They brought the fight to me, Bambola," he told her gently. "I just want to make sure I finish it, is all."

"What are you saying? Are you going to return fire with fire? Are you going to confront them with you gun and a knife? Alone?" just as she said she had a horrified realization. "You're going to bring Jerry with you? Milton? Have you done this before? You told me you weren't a gang!" she whisper shouted through tears and he quickly pressed a quieting kiss on her lips.

"And I didn't lie. We are not a gang. We don't deal in drugs, or guns, or contraband, or any of that. But as long as I was a fighter, I lived with one foot in that shadowy world. A lot of people, who are big in that world, are also criminals. People like those car thieves, who bet and lose. People like Amato, who sponsor fighters and poison the competition. We, guys and I, we were just playing by those rules. I promise, we never used guns because of the underground fighting. We never had to. Those car thieves, they are stupid and acted out, and I am not a fighter anymore, but I have to respond. Think of it as self-defense."

"And then someone else decides they want to retaliate. When will this end? Will you keep risking yourself like that again and again?" she knew she was losing this argument already, his stubbornness familiar to her now.

"Kim, I don't have to fight them physically, you know," he whispered indulgently. She tried to look at him through still teary eyes. "You remember that I have a company that deals in technology? Or that Milton is very, very good at all things computer? We don't have to confront them, like you say."

"Yeah?" she whispered. "So, you won't confront them face to face?"

He kissed her through her tears, his mouth clinging to hers as he rolled her onto her back and settled between her thighs.

"I'll be safe," he told her as he slowly kissed along the side of her face, dropping to her neck. "And I'll keep you safe," he repeated as she clung to him.

* * *

Jack shouldn't have been surprised with Kim's questions and persistence. For all that she was a kind and innocent person, she was smart and she was putting things together. Her pointed questions about Amato and that fucking dinner conversation skirted too close to the truth of the matter and he barely avoided the outright fight with her. As it was, her shocked and betrayed face when she _thought_ he lied to her was unbearable and he quickly averted that particular disaster. But it only made her focus on the last bit that Amato threw at him abut his parents. Kim, ever gentle and sweet, was so distressed that he wanted to burn Amato's business to the ground for simply making her so worried. And then she almost had a panic attack, her hands were shaking and clammy and her breathing was fast and shallow. He realized with some degree of awe that she was deathly worried about him and his safety and when he hugged her to him, her hot tears and stuttered word ripped him to shreds. Kim was worried about him so much.

He put her in bed and tried to calm her the best he could. Easy words or reassurance (just disappointed punks, promise) and some strategic half-truths (I'll be safe) and she clung to him, listened to his words, his little doll, who shouldn't have had to learn this sort of fear and worry.

He kissed her between his words of promise and she was calming down slowly. The situation, the fear that he felt while in the car, must have made him want some, more basic, reassurances of her well-being and he hated himself for wanting her at this moment. He pulled the collar of her top to keep laying kisses on her neck and spotted the faint reddish mark from where the seat belt dug into her skin.

If anything, the sight of her bruised skin made him want to hurt those men with he his own bare hands. He had tentative plans to damage the chop shop garage and send police their way, but now he wanted to hurt them and let them know why, make them regret ever putting Bambola in danger.

At some point, tender kisses of reassurance and healing started to morph into more lingering connection and he could feel the desire become more pronounced, more obvious. But, he kept it off, her comfort and safety more important than his need.

"I'm so sorry, Kim," he murmured placing reverent kisses on the red mark. "I'm so sorry."

"Shhh," she soothed. "I'm fine. You're fine. Please, let's just enjoy being safe."

He wasn't sure when she became aware of his growing desire, but there was no mistaking of her moving in counterpoint to the almost unconscious movement of his hips. He tried to pull away, to hold still, but she whispered another _please_ and he was gone.

From there, well, everything was a bit of a blur. Kim was dressed for comfort, so getting her out of her t-shirt and cotton shorts was a piece of cake. She didn't wear a bra and her gasp as he bit down on her nipple was the best music. Her hands clutched at his shoulders as she clawed to get him to lose his shirt. He obliged, eager to feel her skin to skin. He knew she could feel his hard shaft pressing against her as she moved against him, while he explored her with his mouth and fingers.

His mouth trailed down to her breast once more where he alternated between licking, sucking, and lightly teasing her nipple with his teeth. She ran her fingers through his hair, the long and nimble fingers playing an inaudible music that made him pulse with want.

"Jack," she moaned, "Oh God, I've missed this," she said and he agreed, because it has been a while. Her eyes held some sort of chagrin in them and he realized that Kim was embarrassed to have said that, to express how much she wanted him.

So he captured her lips in something that was less like a kiss and more like a brand of ownership. His mouth then left hers to find her earlobe and captured it between his teeth, sucking gently. His tongue began to stroke the sensitive flesh and she whimpered and squirmed against his fingers.

"Oh Bambola," he whispered against her ear, "You and I both have a lot of time to make up for." He chuckled at her shiver of need.

Her fingers scraped his scalp as his mouth traveled down her throat again and then further on until he found her other breast. He sucked one of her hard nipple into his mouth and captured it between his teeth as his tongue flicked back and forth, felling the new flood of moisture between her thighs. "God, you are so wet," he said barely comprehensible. When two of his fingers entered her she sucked in a slightly pained breath and he stilled. "How are you still so tight?" he said right before he slid up her body and captured her mouth in a deep kiss.

He kissed her deep and she gasped against his mouth as his fingers made circling motions that he knew would bring her closer to orgasm. He could tell that it worked as she was tensing and her walls began to flutter with pleasure. So, he curled his tongue around her earlobe just as his fingers curled inside of her and… She clamped down on his fingers like a vise and his own need was near bursting, but he held her through the shaking release.

* * *

She shuddered through her release, the confusing emotions of earlier transforming into a spectacular orgasm. Then, even before she regained her breathing, he was pressing inside with a moan that sounded almost inhuman. She gasped at the initial burn but then he began to stroke inside of her, filling what had been empty while he healed. She looked at his face, at the exquisite look of pleasure and passion in his expression, and closed her eyes as he captured her lips again, his hips surging forward just as his tongue tangled with her own.

He was pushing, pushing, pushing; his fingers dug into her hips lifting her into the thrusts of his body. Deep, hard, long, and then he hit rock bottom and lightning struck her spine.

She nearly screamed. Her toes curled and she couldn't breathe and, _oh,_ it felt like pain and pleasure at the same time and she never wanted it to end. "Please, oh God! Don't stop! Never stop! Please!" she sobbed in a stuttering whisper. He grumbled something nonsensical, or maybe in a foreign language, and repeated the deep stroke again.

She could tell that he held off his movement, afraid to unleash the full power of his want on her, but she wrapped her legs around him and pressed him close, "harder, please..."

His thrusts began to jerk against her roughly, his rhythm becoming more and more irregular. It felt as though he was getting bigger somehow and then she made a sound that she didn't even know a human being could make as her body shuddered and she fell over the edge. He thrust so hard inside her she slid up the bed a few inches and then he released a muffled long groan in her shoulder the sound, the vibration somehow sensitizing her even more.

She shut her eyes tight as everything became about the moment. For one brief moment she was all sensation. Tremors ran down her body as she buried her face into his neck. He collapsed against her, breathing raggedly.

He rolled off her onto his back, his chest glistening and his dark hair damp with sweat. She curled up beside him and laid her head against his chest as he wrapped his arm around her back and traced lazy circles against her skin.

She shut her eyes, vaguely aware of his getting out of bed to retrieve a warm washcloth for her. She watched sleepily as he bathed her gently before climbing into the bed with her, enfolding her into his arms, and whispering, "Go to sleep, Bambola; I'm here and everything's going to be okay."

She shut her eyes and drifted and as her dreams began to flash before her she heard a soft voice far in the distance say, "I love you."

She had enough strength left to mumble it back, "I love you too."

A/N: I planned to have a full on fight, but somehow this chapter happened. And they said their ILYs out loud. And I hope you enjoyed the eclipse.


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: Plot and action and a big reveal, which I am sure you all saw a mile away.

* * *

Jack left after Kim drifted to sleep. He left her short note explaining his departure and promising to call when he was free. He went to his place. Not the room that he had in Milton's house, but a small crash pad he had rented not far from the gym. It was a bit rundown, but it was the sort of place, where no one paid too much attention to the comings and goings of other residents. He needed to think through his plan again.

He wanted to wait until Kim was out of Seaford and then attack the chop-shop and Amato. Seeing Kim's distress made him want to do more than simply send police after them. He wanted to see a physical damage. And he wanted to make sure that if they decided to repay him, that Kim would be far removed. That meant striking now, having them in disarray, figuring out where the blow came from and, if they learned it was him, to come at him while Kim was out of town. He needed to make his move now. He knew that Milton would be reluctant to help him in that. Truthfully, he didn't want to involve his friends. There was always a chance of being discovered and if he went down, he wanted to be the only one who'd pay the price.

When morning came, he was ready.

He skipped school and spent the morning at Sapere's offices. His bogus company had been in steady communication with the Bruneri trading desk, but he had a revelation last night to make this particular part of the plan even more potent. Marco's work _on_ Amato, which Jack presented to Kim as if it was legitimate work _for_ Amato, was thorough and Jack had the next step outlined.

He arrived at Amato's offices. Jack was dressed in a polo/khaki combination of the water bottle company. They had a scheduled delivery and when he came through with a hand truck full of water bottles for coolers, the front desk simply waived him in. He skirted the main offices on a chance that Amato was there and worked his way, replacing bottles until he arrived in accounting. As luck would have it, although he was prepared to use the nifty app on his phone that would have unlocked most key-pad protected doors, a person was leaving and simply let him in. It truly was incredible the extent to which people let their guard down in the face of routine and generic circumstances. A guy in a standard uniform of a service company could get in anywhere, it seemed. He found a young woman and asked her to show him where the fountain was. She obliged, leaving her desk without closing the computer. He made one bottle fall and while he took his time righting it, he essentially was in the woman's office, where it was a piece of cake to simply stick the flash drive that Milton gave him into a hard drive. The woman was chatting with a co-worker in the hall way and in next three seconds, the virus was loaded into the system.

When Jack left, he only had to wait for the digital fireworks to begin. Of course, it was only the legitimate business, but the malware would act as a hostile virus that would attack all the files, while also compromising the contact list of all the users on the server. Jack was guaranteed that it would reach the Bruneris soon and when that happened, they would blame Amato.

His next stop was the garage, where the idiots, who attacked him and Kim, were known to be. He had their building plans and, more importantly, he had the schematic of all the pipelines that the building used. It is fortuitous that the building stood on its own, not connected to other structures. He knew the layout from the schematics and in short order, he zeroed in on his target. There was a gasoline reservoir from when this was a mechanics shop with a gas pump. All he needed was a electrical short-circuit and then it was done.

By the time blaze caught on, and followed up with a small explosion from the reservoir, Jack was far enough away.

It wasn't exactly the face to face beat down, but it was satisfying nonetheless.

He cleaned up in his bolt hole of a studio and went to pick up Kim as if nothing out of the ordinary happened.

/

The next day Kim left for New York. She was teary, and Jack's own heart squeezed painfully at the sight of her bright eyes getting brighter because of the tears. He kissed her and prayed that Milton's diversion worked.

/

Jack didn't' even have to tell Milton. His friend knew what happened, as did Jerry, and Jack got an earful from both for going alone. Milton objected to Jack's destruction of property, but Jack only reminded him of the Coast Guard officer, who was found dead on the shore. They all understood that Amato got rid of the witness.

So, the three of them did nothing but watch and listen to any and all possible chatter about Amato's business being hit by a virus or the 'gas explosion' that happened at the junky garage.

And then came the news from his account with the Bruneri trading desk. His latest recommended investment lost a lot of money.

The virus was successful.

For three days Amato and the car crew were busy cleaning up and trying to figure out what exactly happened and who was at fault.

And then Jack got the call from Amato himself.

On his personal cell phone.

The conversation was short and to a point.

"I know it was you. You've got more balls than I thought. I underestimated you. But not anymore. Gloves off, kiddo."

Milton, without a suggestion from Jack, made sure his parents left town to visit grandparents and Jerry cleared the schedules of all the workers in Manny's garage. This way, if there was a visit from Amato and his men, only Jack and his friends would be around.

* * *

When Kim woke up next morning it was to a headache and soreness that convinced her that she hadn't dreamed of the evening before. She was in the car that was intentionally hit by another car and she had the heavy and emotional conversation with Jack. She was somewhat embarrassed by her tears and the near meltdown, but clearly it hasn't put off Jack too much.

And he told her he loved her.

And she did too.

She lay in her bed, mind going through the memories and wondered if everything in her relationship with Jack would be marked by such drama. Not for the first time she thought that being with him was worth the effort.

If there was a fly in the ointment, it would be his stubborn need to confront all the problems with his typical directness, which meant blood and bruises. How she wished she hadn't lost focus yesterday and pressed for more information from Jack. But as it was, she had to be content that he promised to stay safe and not confront those people directly. If only she wasn't leaving for New York so soon...

/

In the end, Kim got her information. Just not from the source she expected.

She parted ways with her parents and Jack, who fully accepted by her dad. They kept their PDA to a minimum, but the separation was painful and she teared up again when she made him promise again that he'd be safe. The flight, which Jack upgraded to a business class, was wonderful, if long and she spent it reminiscing about the night and the tree little words.

She arrived at New York, mind already on competition. The small hotel she stayed at was conveniently located, was relatively inexpensive and her first day there was spent scouting the location, finding out quickest ways to get to the competition hall and where her section was supposed to be.

On the first day of the competition, she was nervous, trying to calm her jitters and she played and replayed her Stravinsky piece in her mind again and again. When she was called to perform, she tried to block the outside world and focused on the music itself. But the churning emotions of last week in Seaford were catching up with her and soon she played as if this piece of music was the soundtrack to her tumultuous relationship with Jack. When it ended, she was surprised to find herself back in the hall with judges and audience, so the polite applause she received made her blush madly.

She couldn't even tell whether she messed up anything, her mind took leave of the present and she only hoped that the lyrical, the interpretation part of the performance, would carry the day.

She sat in the audience listening to other talented people play, fretting about her own performance, when another girl - she played Mozart and was from somewhere in the South - sat next to her and whispered.

"You've done great, honey," her Southern accent thick and Kim immediately recalled her own Nana.

"Thank you. You were fantastic as well."

"Not that it matters to my Pa. He'd never let me study in New York. Still, if I win, he gets to brag," the girl spoke lightly and Kim smiled again at that easy manner. "I am Jane. I don't know anyone here, so wanna grab lunch and dinner together?"

Kim eagerly agreed. New York was loud and large and overwhelming. Knowing at least one person from the competition would make this a less lonely experience. They stuck together and Jane's observations on the city, competition, contestants, judges and everything in between were hilarious.

/

They were over the hump, so to speak. Both she and Jane made it to the next round and they had an afternoon off. So, it had been just the two them, wandering around the city and giggling over expensive, fancy ice creams while Kim tried not to think about Jack and his increasingly paranoid attitude. He was checking on her often, demanding to know her schedule and asking her to call in with regular updates. She chalked it up to his intense life, but from the distance, she wondered if she was somehow swept in the emotion that made her think _she_ was in danger.

She and Jane sauntered in and out of shops, impulse-shopping and enjoying the scenery. Jane spotted a cute dress and ducked into the store while Kim pulled her phone to send a text to Jack. She wasn't paying enough attention, because when the van hauled up alongside her, she didn't even realize it. It was like any number of service vehicles in the city. But when three men spilled from the back of it, head-to-toe black like they were cosplaying ninjas, Kim's stomach dropped and she instinctively threw her ice cream cone at the first man. He batted it out of the way and she pointed her phone at him trying to employ the taser, but they moved with terrifying efficiency and speed, coming up and getting ahold of her hand. She lost the phone in the jostle and he shoved her into the back of the windowless vehicle.

No time for Kim to use her taser. No time to yell, as she was grabbed by the throat. It was fast, professional.

Kim couldn't even cuss them out. As soon as she opened her mouth, gloved hands stuffed it with some kind of soft fabric and covered it with duct tape. Her arms were wrenched behind them and tied, far too tight, at the elbow.

Part of Kim wanted to make angry dinosaur noises and head-butt her captors and escape, but she knew she'd never make it. Even if she got out of the vehicle, with her arms bound she'd face-plant in the pavement. Something told her that escapee kidnap victims did not get any kinder treatment than the regular sort.

* * *

She tried to guess how long they were driving, or how far, but it was hard to tell in the city traffic and no concept of direction. They eventually stopped and she was hauled out by her bound hands, making her shoulders ache in the joint.

They were in the underground garage as far as she could tell and a ride in service elevator later, she was broken that into a small room with no windows.

She didn't have to wait long. A young man, a little older than her, with dirty blond hair and pale eyes entered the room and the three men, who brought her in, followed him.

The man sat in front of her and looked her over in a way one would look at the artefact at the exhibit, with a mild fascination.

"You're not what I expected. I thought Giacomo would have picked someone more... shapely," the guy finally said, his eyes zeroing on Kim's breasts and hips.

She understood the insult there, but 'Giacomo' puzzled her. Still, it obviously had something to do with said Giacomo being with her, so it must be that he meant Jack, right? But, what was this guy's deal with Jack that he had to kidnap her? Was there a mistake?

Except the guy looked certain, but he must have been wrong. He'd made a mistake, gotten something mixed up.

"Excuse me, how rude of me," the guys spoke again and in one painful move he pulled off the duct tape and Kim managed to push out the rag out of her mouth.

She blinked away tears from the stinging around her mouth and tried to rewet her tongue.

"I don't know a Giacomo. You have mistaken me for someone else."

"I never make mistakes, except one – letting Giacomo be. But you certainly made one, when you got mixed in with him."

He suddenly moved close to her, his face uncomfortably near her own, and his fingers slid along the clavicle to touch the pendant that rested there.

"It's beautiful. And expensive. I suspect it's a gift from him, no?" he studied the pendant for a moment and then looked up at her.

She tried to move back from him, his proximity unsettling, but her movement halted when she realized that he grabbed the pendant in a fist and the chain was digging into her neck, making her stop.

"He must really like you. I hear he never had the same girl twice," his words were weighty and she felt his gaze like it was a greasy cloak that covered her.

His hand moved from the pendant, an index finger maintaining the contact with her skin and going towards her breast. She bucked away from him, but there was nowhere to go, so she lunged forward, which made him move back a little.

"Hm, I guess I can see _some_ appeal here," he said casually. "Your boyfriend caused us quite a lot of headache. I don't care what he did to Amato. That idiot was too caught up in his own games, only to be bested by a teen. Anything Giacomo did to him was deserved for sheer stupidity, if nothing else. I never liked him anyway."

Amato?... Oh, God, so there was no mistake. Giacomo was Jack and this guy had something against him and, by extension, her. She wasn't getting out of this easily-

"Did you know? That he blew up that junky shop? Or that he sent a virus our way and now we lost millions?" the young man continued and Kim's brain sort of stuttered.

Blew up? Jack blew up something?

She knew, of course, that Jack planned to respond and he promised not to confront them directly- Oh, god, did he actually blow up the garage of the guys, who tried to run them off the street? And the virus… But then she remembered his own words about Sapere and his knowledge of information and technology. But did he really try to- Were there casualties? Oh, no! How could she possibly think that of-

"I don't know any Giacomos. I am here for classical music competition," she said randomly, stupidly.

"Really? You're going to deny? Very well. He goes by Jack Brewer right now. But his birth name is Giacomo Bruneri," the guy was more firm now. He leaned forward again. "And Bruneris are a crime syndicate. It's practically public knowledge. They are one of the families to control the East Coast. Amato is their man in the West-"

"Stop it!" Kim said, loud enough to startle the guy, himself, and the other men around them, who came closer with guns in their hands.

She was truly confused now, or was it scared? No, it was not... it was anger and confusion. Jack was Giacomo! But his parents- They were dead. And Jack lived in Seaford, not East Coast-

How could this guy even suggest-

The guy looked at her in faux sympathy, "He didn't tell you, did he? And now you doubt me. Well," he pulled something up on his phone and showed an old photo. It looked like a picture of the family: parents and two young men. One looked like Jack and another-

She sharply looked up to the guy.

"Yes, you see it now. These are my grandparents, Massimo and Clara Bruneri. And these are their two sons, Carlo and Mario. They each had a son. Mario had Giacomo and Carlo had me. Pleased to meet you Kimberly Crawford. I am Caio Bruneri. Your boyfriend and I have some unfinished business to do."

Like on autopilot, Kim continued to stare at the photo without blinking, expression blank. It was as if Jack's face was looking at her. And this guy, Caio, was Jack's – no, Giacomo's – cousin?! And Amato was a Bruneri man. What was going on? Why was Amato and Caio set against Jack?

She had a flashback to the night she found Jack on the road and his explanation that it might have been to get rid of the competition. But was it, really? Was it an attempt to get rid of the Giacomo Bruneri, not Jack Brewer? Were his parents also killed because they were Bruneri?

Why? Why would a Bruneri man try to get rid of a Bruneri son?

The answer was obvious. To eliminate the potential heir, a claimant to the dubious throne.

But then, was Jack a claimant? Was Jack actively involved in that life?

All the little things he didn't tell her, but that stood out to her, came flooding.

He was always armed. He knew how to handle both a gun and blade. He had access to a lot of information, which suggested some illegal snooping. He was rich. He spoke Italian. He was paranoid about safety. He and his friends, didn't she think they were a gang at first? And he blew up the garage and did some digital damage to Amato…

"Did- Did anyone die in the explosion?" her voice came with difficulty as her mind was overwhelmed with the information that relentlessly assaulted her mind.

"I don't know," Caio shrugged and she knew that he didn't care if anyone did die.

Of course, he was the mafia. They were implicated in a lot of crimes. Horrible, grueling, bloody crimes. Theft, extortion, money laundering, disappearances, deaths. Deaths. Murders.

Was Jack just like them? Was his father?

She didn't know because Jack never told her! He lied to her...

She didn't realize she had tears running down her face, until Caio wiped them with his hands.

She reeled back again, but this time he held the back of her head, not letting her go.

"Amato told me you had pretty eyes. I can see it now for myself. He also told me that you would be his downfall. Let's see if it's true."

"Let me go," she didn't know why she said it. It was obvious she wasn't going anywhere, but she wanted to be alone, to think of everything she discovered so far.

"Now, where would be fun in that? You know that Mario Bruneri is the reason my father is dead? Did you know that it took us a long time to find him? He was hiding like a coward he was. Of course, in the end he died. Unfortunately, he killed our men… And it seems that he trained his son well… Giacomo at least is not cowering away from the challenge. I wonder if he'd be so brave if it was your life in the balance?"

A/N: How was it? Still with me?


	25. Chapter 25

Jack was wound tight. He kept expecting either Amato and his men to storm Manny's or the police to arrest him for arson. He did remember to scramble the video feed on security cameras both at Amato's and the garage, but who knew? Maybe someone would recognize him.

Ever since Amato's phone call he compulsively checked in on Kim. Her phone was on her most of the time and he and Milton could easily locate the little red pin with her tracker at all times. And if they couldn't use her phone, there was a tracker on her necklace. Jack never told her about it, but he felt better knowing that he had options other than phone.

She humored him and called or texted about every hour, teasing him that he was a worrywart. Her next check-in was supposed to come soon and, keeping one eye on the view from cameras outside, Jack kept glancing at his phone.

Which stayed silent past the hour mark.

And then another ten minutes.

He was now looking at the phone with both eyes and when another five minutes passed, he called her himself.

Only for a strange girl to answer it.

"Who's this?" he barked and the girl's response was s nervous stutter.

"...Jane. I-"

"Where's Kim?" he felt the sudden lack of air and his heart was falling and falling and the cold that swept him was replacing all the warmth. He saw Milton's head whip at him and he put the phone on speaker.

"...I- I dunno..." the girls suddenly hiccoughed and he could hear the tears in her voice.

"Tell me what you do know," the Drago was asking questions while Jack was in stupor. The girl took another tremulous breath and it was both Drago and Jack that roared at her. "NOW!"

"I- We're shopping, is all... And then, I went inside this shop, just for a second, I swear! Oh, God, I'm so stupid! I shouldna left her alone-"

"Tell me!"

"Jesus... Yes. So, shop. And then, when I came out, she was gone. But her phone was on the ground and I think she dropped her ice-cream too. I'm so sorry... I was gone 5 minutes, max!" the girl was openly weeping now and Jack to scream at to shut up, to not voice his own fears.

"Did you see anything? Anyone?" Drago kept asking questions.

"Nothing! Oh, God, what if she was taken by those human traffickers? Pa always told me that New York was-"

"Focus! You didn't see any cars, busses, vans?" Drago already knew it was useless.

"Vans? There are like dime a dozen here-"

"Where were you?"

"The Purple Moon on 7th."

Milton was pulling up the location and it was obvious that girls were doing the tourist stuff near Times Square. Of course, large crowd were perfect cover for a swift abduction.

Especially if it were professionals.

"Jane," Milton said in much calmer and gentler tone that either Drago or Jack could muster at the moment. "This is Milton, Kim's friend and you talked to Jack, her boyfriend. We'll be in New York soon. Tell us where you're staying and we'll meet you."

The girl stuttered out the name of the hotel and the call ended.

"I think this proves that gloves are definitely off. We can rule out them attacking us, since they decided to go after Kim instead," Milton was saying calmly as he pulled out the airlines' flight schedules and studying it on the separate screen from the map of where Kim's was taken.

Jack started at the little screen photo of Kim next to her phone number in his contact list.

Kim was taken.

From him.

By Amato or Bruneris.

And it was his fault.

Suddenly the loud and fast heartbeat that he could feel in his temples grew louder and louder and the coldness was turning downright chilling and he was shaking and the roar in his ears was drowining every other sound. His teeth were clenched to hold in the shout, the scream, the pure agony from pain that was clawing at him from inside and he- just- could- not- take- it-

"AARGH!" the scream finally found it way out and he drove his clenched fist in to the tabletop hard enough to see it crack.

"Nombre de Dios!" Jerry's exclamation pierced Jack's anguish and he felt the comfortable fusion of Jack/Drago shift into being entirely Drago.

"Milton, do we know where Amato is right now?"

"He hasn't been seen since last night."

"We can assume he's in New York. Either he took Ki- her, or he was reporting to the Bruneris."

"Most of his men are here though, so he probably went to report. They did think it was his fault that the bug lost them trades..."

"So he talked and convinced them it was me. We are looking at the Bruneri men. We need the location of whe-"

"I'm trying to piggy back on the CCTV near that shop, but it might take me a while."

"Her pendant! If she has it on, it has a tracker."

A few key strokes and the little red pin showed them that she was still in Manhattan. "She could have lost it if they forcibly-" Milton stopped talking in the face of Jack's glare.

"Jack, you need to stay focused. Remember, you are the real target here. So, they will keep her alive, at the very least. I wager that they would contact you even."

"What, like a hostage situation? What could I possibly have to offer?"

"You are worth a lot of money and you cost them millions. They might simply want the repayment. More likely, they want you gone and Kim is their guaranty that you'd come to them yourself."

"Then I'm going there directly. What is that address?"

"Are you insane? No! Think!" Milton uncharacteristically shouted.

"Oh, I'm thinking. I'm thinking that she is all alone, held against her will, and it's all because of me," Jack surged forward and Milton momentarily looked away in face of such emotion.

"You're being stupid," Jerry's voice cut the tension. "You have planned to face them anyway, right? Because they killed your parents. Well, the timetable moved up a bit, but your plan can still work."

"I planned to take out the two Bruneri men. I didn't think I'd take on the entire syndicate!"

He could see that Milton was processing everything, "Well, the plan was to weaken them enough with internal discord and inter-gang fighting-"

"We don't have that kind of time! She doesn't have that kind of time!" Drago spoke as strategist, but it was Jack who colored this with emotion of urgency. "There are only three of us!"

"So we plan only to extract! Not take them down! Remember, they don't know that we know her location. We have the element of surprise."

Milton was quiet again and then looked up at him, "We have until Bruneri call you and set their demand. They might even give you a time frame. Until then we can be assured that she'd be kept alive. Demand a proof of life conversation. In the meantime, let's put as much of your original plan into work. If we can't pull it off ourselves, let's contact the police."

"I think you forgot that we do have someone who can help with extraction," Jerry said again into the silence that stretched between the three of them. "Grant was to war, saw actual combat, has skills that even you don't."

"I can't ask him to risk his life and the peace he finally found," Jack retorted even as Drago analyzed the potential ally.

The heavy silence followed the statement.

"Let's put the plan to work. And I'll talk to Grant."

* * *

Kim was left unbound and her shoulders fairly screamed when she was released. The room was small and there was no place to sleep, but eventually she was brought a small cot to lie on. They even gave her food - energy bar and water - and a bathroom break, which she appreciated. All in all. it seemed that her captors didn't mean to harm her. Much.

She must have fallen asleep, her internal clock telling her it was time, but she woke up to a loud opening of the door. Feeling crummy and dirty and disheveled, she was manhandled into sitting position and her hands were bound again. Thankfully this time they were bound in front of her. Caio was there as well, looking fresh and clean and dressed in the casual luxury of a rich person.

"How are you? Slept well?" he asked mockingly and she only glared at him. "None of that. You need to be sad and scared. You're already look worse for wear, but I can arrange for you to be scared for real."

She heard the hidden threat and looked away, unable to imagine the sort of nastiness this man was capable.

Caio dialed on his phone and almost immediately got a response, "How eager! I like it. I guess you figured by now you lost something of yours. And, what a chance, I have found her."

He was silent for a second his eyes narrowing briefly, "How predictable. Although I would give you credit for inventive language."

Another pause, "Making demands, really? I have your girl, your rose without thorns, right in front of me. Do you want me to start plucking her petals?"

Kim shuddered at his tone and Caio gave her a blatant leer. She hated him at the moment so much. She had to get out of this situation. And Jack was probably going to comply with whatever Caio demanded only to be killed in the end. She wasn't sure - couldn't know for certain - that Jack knew about his Bruneri heritage. He didn't tell her a lot of things after all... But if he didn't know, then he'd be walking into the trap. She had to take a gamble. But how to accomplish that? She was about to simply scream loud enough to be heard, when Caio continued.

"Well, if you insist. Here she is." Caio put the phone on speaker and placed it screen up in front of her. "Speak up, Kimberly. Your boy wants to hear you."

"Jack?"

"Tell me something only Kim would know," his voice sounded rough as if he was pulling a great weight.

"I keep a well stocked first aid kit in my car. And I think I played Puccini's Gondolier overture quite well," she prayed that no one in her immediate hearing was a classical music lover or that Jack would notice.

"Kim-" there was such an indescribable mix of emotions in his voice that Kim's almost teared up.

Caio cruelly pulled the phone away and took it off speaker. "As you can hear, it's her and she is still alive."

Silent smirking all the while looking at her with impossibly cold eyes, "We lost a lot of money. I want you to pay us back 15 million."

Kim couldn't contain the gasp of surprise at the amount, but Jack wasn't phased and a short while later, Caio continued, "Fine, I'll give you time to collect the money. I want it in three days. Bring me the money and get your girl."

Three days... That's all the time she had before her world would change irrevocably. Because she didn't think for a second that Caio would let Jack go...

* * *

The call ended and Grant and his friends looked at him with varying expression, as different as they themselves were. Grant had a stoic expression of the soldier tinged with somber understanding. Milton's eyes were wide, but his gaze was turned inward as if he was already thinking of next steps. Jerry's face was a picture of incredulity, which faded once he looked directly at Jack.

"Dude... Can we scrounge up this much dough?"

Jack was still stuck on the memory of her voice, raspy and tired, but he eventually answered, "It's doable."

"I get the first aid kit, but it's funny that she'd mention her music to you. Never thought you to be such an opera lover," Grant said as if to get Jack out of his thoughts.

"I'm not. Mom was. And now Kim. She kept talking about this competition enough for me to learn a thing or two. Although, I thought she was playing Stravinsky-"

Milton turned to him so fast, he nearly fell out of the chair, "What?"

"She was supposed to play Stravinksy's Rite of Spring, but she said-"

"Puccini's Gondolier. Why'd she change her competition music? Unless... She was trying to communicate something..." Milton turned back tot he computer and was already typing. "Giacomo Puccini. Best known for Tosca, La Boheme, Madam Butterfly and Turandot. But not Gondolier. The Gondolier was written by Arthur Sullivan."

Jack startled at the name. _Giacomo._ That what his father called him. It was his Italian name. A version of Jack. Wasn't it?

"What is it Jack?" Grant was looking at him with sharp eyes. "It meant something to you. She is a bright girl, She wouldn't make a mistake like that."

"Giacomo. It's what my father called me."

Milton was thinking out loud, "And we know he was connected to Bruneri's and probably was part of that syndicate. Your name, your Italian name, Kim wanted us to know that she knows about this connection now."

It made sense.

"Why then the wrong opera?" it was Jerry who voiced it.

"It must mean something too," Milton was looking at the the pages and skimming the information. "The Gondolier, or the Savoy King, written in 1889, humorous, number of performances, blah, blah, blah. Synopsis: the young prince is left with a gondolier to protect him. But the gondolier was drunk and mixed up the prince with his own son and no one knows who the real prince is. Ok, so, the hidden prince trope. I'm not sure how it helps."

But Jack had a flash of perfect clarity. It was outrageous, but somehow made sense. With a wooden voice he spoke, "Milton, can you check how many Giacomos were born in New York state in 1997?"

Milton looked at him funny, but obliged. They all sat in charged silence, while Milton did his magic.

"There were 20 boys named Giacomo born in New York that year," Milton said finally. "Care to further filter it?"

"Was there a Giacomo Bruneri among those?" Jack said and it was like he plunged into an ice cold water.

Milton looked at him for a very long time and he knew his brilliant friend figured it out too, "Just one. Born to Mario Bruneri and Zoe Bruneri."

Even Jerry understood what it meant and the four men in the room sat silent once more.

"If you go there, Jack, you won't be coming out alive," Grant's deep voice carried and Jack, who already came to the same conclusion years ago, only nodded.

"Hidden prince, huh?" Milton looked pensive. "I'd never thought I'd see it actually play out in real life. I wonder what caused your father to leave. He wasn't just a member of the syndicate. He was Don's son. An heir, if you will."

"Milton, when you did your first research on Bruneris, you said that both sons of Massimo died in gang wars," Jack was putting pieces together. "I thought dad was Bruneris' higher ranked associate. Maybe even a Consiglieri, but he was an actual son. He must have faked the death to get away from that life. But they kept coming after him. We moved many times, changed names..." He drifted recalling the first time he saw a dead body. "He left because of mom."

Grant averted his eye at this mention of Jack's parents, whom he liked and respected when they were alive, and said into the quiet, "It would be difficult to get her out. They obviously outnumber us and are armed. More importantly, they are used to killing," he gave all three friends a loaded look. "But there are some shortcomings that I see too. First, they don't expect an attack from us. Second, we know where she's being held. Third, we know they mean to kill Jack. Fourth, they're maybe a gang, but they are not spies or military. They might be used to a direct confrontation and gun-fu, but they don't have experience in simply holding a position or checking for infiltration agents. Our best bet is to sneak in, makes as little noise as possible, and then get out."

Jack agreed. His plan of revenge had to be postponed. "Milton, get us all the information you can get on the building where her signal is coming from. And, we need as much knowledge about the strength of the syndicate right now. How many people can they put up? We only have two days to prepare, so we're leaving now. Also, we'd need a distraction."

Milton went back to his computer and Jerry started calling his cousins. He needed to leave and someone had to mind the shop.

Grant stepped closer to Jack and told him quietly so guys wouldn't hear, "We'll need weapons." Seeing Jack open his mouth, Grant continued, "We can't bring them through airport security, but don't worry about that. I can arrange it. I know a few people in New York. They can be our transportation as well."

"Are they ex-military like you?"

"Yes. They've seen combat. They know," Grant's words suggested a lot of things in that short phrase. His contacts knew war, they knew death, they killed.

"I do too. I know."

Because he did. He killed once to defend himself and his parents. He'd do it again to defend Kim.


	26. Chapter 26

Caio visited Kim again. He obviously kept an eye on Jack because he told her, quite gleefully, that Jack was seen visiting two banks and then heading to the airport.

"Your boy does care about you. It's a good sign. I didn't quite believe Amato when he told me that, but I guess he was right. Too bad he already lost us so much money and business..."

Obviously, things didn't go well for Amato and Kim, who disliked the man, still hoped that he wasn't dead. She kept mum, unsure what sort of mood Caio was in. She was hungry and tired. The food they gave her was the same minimal energy bars and it wasn't enough. Worse still, the air in this room was terrible, the guards outside smoked and it was so humid.

Caio kept talking satisfied with her silence, "Giacomo could have been a good family member for us. Too bad he can't help who his parents were." Caio's lip curled in disgust and she looked away from the ugly expression. "Apparently, some still see the Bruneri in him: good head for business and guts to do what's necessary. Just like his father..."

Kim wasn't sure, but it seemed like Caio was- jealous? Or something like that. As if these comparisons of Jack to his late father, implying smarts and ruthlessness was something he wanted for himself. She couldn't tell: Caio was mostly talk and she hadn't seen him do more than sneer and other than that first time when he touched her face and necklace, he wasn't a brute to her.

Neither was Jack.

"He wouldn't have. Even if he were aware of you family's connection to him," she wasn't sure what made her say that, but in her heart of hearts she didn't think that Jack would become mafia man.

"You really are quite naive. It's almost cute. Giacomo was behind a series of attacks on Amato's operations. And he wasn't particularly lawful about it, you know. In fact, some think he is behind a lot more attacks against many crews in Seaford. Your boy may not have known he is a Bruneri, but he is ruthless and this business is in his blood."

Once again Caio said this as if repeating someone's words and they cut him raw. His eyes were distant and colder than ever.

Caio kept talking, eyes still distant, "'He's a clever ragazzo*, no?'" It was obvious that he was quoting someone. "'Shame he's not Italian!' Hah, if Nonno* knew..."

She wasn't sure, but it seemed like their grandfather approved of Jack without knowing who he was. Seeing Caio's expression at the moment, she knew that Caio would eliminate Jack just for that alone.

"He isn't in a gang! Amato was after him because of the competitions!" she said forcefully, feeling as if she had the right of it.

"Oh, but how would you know, Kimberly? Did he tell you everything?" it was said deceptively mildly, but Caio knew his jab would cut her deep.

Jack didn't tell a lot of things. And she had no idea if he was or wasn't in a gang.

"He is not like you," she whispered and Caio glared at her in response, all his politeness suddenly gone.

He was sitting and when he suddenly moved, the rest of Kim's calm crumbled as Caio stalked towards her. "Me?" he laughed, a harsh sound, "If I- if this is the best you can think of, you are even more confused than I thought! My god, but you have no idea! You saw him fight in one-on-one match, and you think you know what you're up against?!" He came close to her and pulled her harshly onto her feet. She wobbled and he held painfully tight onto her shoulders, shaking her a little. "I told you he blew up a garage! And it's still nothing compared to what he's capable of. Did you know that he tortured a classmate for information? Of that his campaign against Amato got one man killed? Or that because of him, Amato and his men fought against the Triad and lost people?" He shook her again, his harsh words leaking venom. "And you're his. Do you understand what that means? No, of course you don't. But he does. Now everybody knows you are his. Even if you weren't taken by me, others know you're out there and they'd come for you. And if you think you're scared now, this will seem like a joke compared to what they will do to you! Do you understand?!"

He shook her so violently, her head snapped back and forth and she was sure that there would be bruises on her arms. He looked so- unhinged and dangerous right now. Jack, for all his proficiency in violence, always appeared to be in control. Like his anger and rage were tools and he had full mastery of them. But Caio... Caio looked like those ugly emotions - anger, jealousy - ruled him.

The silence that fell was deafening. Kim couldn't even think to form a reply. She stared at Caio's burning eyes and crunched up face, frozen, in shock, in genuine terror.

She didn't think she could be more scared of Caio after being kidnapped and held for ransom, but this-

The man's words -no, threats- were chilling her to the bone, making her fully realize just how much danger she was in. To see how easily Caio just snapped, going from faux-reasonable to aggressively threatening and manhandling her - if she kept pushing it would end badly...

Caio has just cruelly reminded her that she had no real influence - a pawn in the game of violent men. She shivered at the implication of what would happen to her.

She looked away from Caio and gulped the sudden onset of nerves.

Caio nodded, sightly calmer faced with Kim's sudden silence, but still fearsome in his agitation. "Exactly," he said, "So think about that before you talk about who is or isn't like me. Think about your safety."

He stepped back and Kim collapsed on the cot, trying calm herself and taking deep and measured breath. It seemed liked the the cold and dank air in the room wasn't helping at all. It felt heavy and moved slowly like molasses. She lied back and kept trying to draw enough air.

She both hoped that Jack would come to rescue her soon and dreaded that he would.

* * *

They arrived in New York and drove to the hotel where Milton booked their stay. Grant was on the phone touching base with his contacts and Milton was setting up his own hub of monitoring. Kim's pin had moved, but then remained stationary for the last 18 hours, meaning that she was still in the warehouse they moved her to. Jack saw the picture of it and while it was a far cry from they typical dank and old building, it still was in the industrial part of the island. Their hotel was a decidedly low-key and was a meeting point for them and Grant's people.

Their plan, which hinged on element of surprise, was to go in a day before the deadline. Marco, who apparently monitored Amato's movements, contacted Jack before he left Searford and asked if Jack needed any help. Without going into specifics, Marco promised that a package would be waiting for him at the hotel and asked that Jack come back home alive. The package had a nifty collection of surveillance equipment and communication devices, plus two sets of bullet proof vests.

Milton had done his homework and they had three locations to monitor: the warehouse, the Bruneri Inc. headquarters, and the Bruneri residence. Grant's people scouted the places a day before and the distractions were planned.

That afternoon Jerry, equipped with a bike and a baseball cap with _Logistics and Solutions_ logo, arrived at the Bruneri Inc. and delivered a package addressed to the securities trading desk. It was innocuous enough, but an hour after Jerry left, the package heated up and caught fire making nearby papers burn. The resulting smoke triggered the sprinkler systems and the entire building was evacuated. Jerry confirmed that Caio and Massimo were escorted out with a heavy retinue of armed men around them. The duo left for their home, but not one hour later, their alarm system was triggered and the entire mansion went into lock down with more armed men arriving to scout the surrounding area.

They waited till that signal. It took them twenty minutes to reach the warehouse area. Jack's nerve ends were buzzing like livewires by the time they hid the car and began to make their way towards the address that was imprinted in his mind.

"We have to be smart about this. We want to get in and out of there as inconspicuously as possible for Kim's safety. Bruneri will have men surrounding the area to keep watch. Hopefully not too many, since the alarms drew some of them back to the office and mansion."

"Got it."

Grant reached out to grasp Jack's shoulder, halting them both in their steps.

"Keep your head about this. I can cover you, but we need to stick to the plan if we want this to go our way."

Jack gave a quick nod of understanding, ending the conversation as he turned back around and quietly made his way through the surrounding warehouses.

253.

That's the number they were looking for. 249. 250. 251. Jack's hand travelled down to his waist where his handgun was situated in its holster. He freed the weapon without so much as a glance, remaining vigilant of his surroundings.

They heard the gruff voices of men at the same moment and simultaneously came to a halt. They remained still, listening to the muffled exchange from around the corner. Jack noted the shift in pitches, attempting to discern the number of people conversing.

"I'm picking up on two."

"Same here. I'll go around the other side and we each take whoever's closest."

Jack gave Grant a curt nod, waiting for him to round the side of the warehouse before doing the same. Back pressed against the wall, he made his way towards the voices of Bruneri's men without a sound. Every movement, every step, every breath was measured, coolly calculated down to the angle as the stealth training his father have conditioned into him kicked in.

The voices came into focus as Jack approached and he could just make out what the men were saying.

"Damn, the kid is snappy today. And this girl he has us watching? The Boss doesn't know about her."

"The Boss doesn't know a lot of things. Doesn't mean the kid can't do it. We do what we are told to. Like, getting inhalers."

Kim. They were talking about Kim and she needed inhalers. Jack had momentarily panicked that she was sick, but forced the motion down.

Three short whistles sounded from around the other side of the building, calling the attention of the two men standing guard. Their conversation ceased for a moment as they listened.

"You hear that?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna go check it out. Be on guard."

Jack could faintly make out the sound of retreating footfalls as one of the guards investigates the source of the noise. That was his cue.

Tucking his gun into the back of his jeans and covering it and the vest with his leather jacket, Jack collected himself and then proceeded to round the corner. The man tensed the second Jack came into his line of sight. Jack put on a surprised façade before cautiously approaching him. He remained a few paces away in the shadows, careful not to fully reveal his face.

"Hi, sorry, don't mean to scare you, but I seem to be a little lost."

The dark-haired man, couple of inches shorter than Jack, assessed him warily.

"Yeah, you do. This is private property."

"Oh, sorry. I'm here to pick something up. Think you could help me find the warehouse I'm looking for?"

"This late in the day?"

The skepticism in the man's tone was obvious. Jack poured every ounce of irresponsible party boy teen into his next response that he could, hoping the man would take the bait.

"Just a couple party favors, if you know what I'm saying. Wait, you're not a cop, are you?"

"Why don't you just tell me the number you're looking for?"

Annoyance rung through the guard's voice above all else. Jack reached into his pocket to pull out the paper with the warehouse address on it while he closed the distance between the two of them, careful to keep his head down.

"It says right here I'm looking for warehouse two fifty-three."

Jack looked up then, revealing his face to the man in the light of a nearby lamppost. He could tell the second the man recognized him by the look on his face. It was a second too late as Jack quickly grabbed his wrist, preventing the guard from relieving his gun from its holster. He pulled his fist back and quickly snapped it forward into the man's temple, his body crumpling to the pavement as he rapidly lost consciousness.

There were footsteps ahead and he tensed up, ready to fight, but relaxed when Grant rounded the corner, seemingly uninjured. The older man glanced at the body lying on the ground and then back at Jack.

"Let's go."

They paused at the door, listening for any signs that someone might be waiting on the other side. Jack drew his gun up in front of him as Grant reached out to grab the doorknob. The men exchanged a brief nod right before the door swung open and Jack stepped inside.

Neither gunfire nor angered shouts greeted them, which they took as a good thing. The inside of the warehouse was lined with rows of boxes extending almost from floor to ceiling. It'd help to stay hidden, but also made it harder to locate Kim.

"We need to stay together until we find Kim. We can figure out how to get out of here as we go."

Without another word, the men cautiously proceeded forward. Jack took note of the exits they came across, sure that Grant was doing the very same.

Muted voices from up ahead slowed down their pace as the two men travelled deeper into the warehouse. Jack could distinguish between the different tenors as they slipped closer, picking up on tail end of a tirade.

"I don't see why we can't just off the girl now. There's no way the Boss man is gonna let her live. There'd be no point once that pest from Cali is gone and she knows too much."

Jack's grip tightened around his gun, a strong hand on his shoulder the only thing that prevented him from charging in. Turning slightly, he caught Grant's eye and nodded his understanding. They needed to hold their ground to get a better idea of what they were up against.

"Are you questioning Caio's authority, Tony?"

There was a sudden silence following the accusation, a suspension of time that occurred only in a moment of completely standstill. Even though he couldn't see the men, Jack felt the shifting and rising tension in the air.

"Of course, I wasn't, Nick. Only an idiot would do that."

"Then I don't need to explain to you the reasons to keep this girl breathing. Caio wants her alive until stated otherwise, so that's how it's gonna be. Got it?"

A small relief washed through Jack at hearing that. She was alive!

Silence ensued after the tense exchange, save for the sound fingers scuttling over a keyboard and the muted thuds of shoes on the cement ground. Jack and Grant held their position for a few beats to track the movement of the heavy footfalls. Once they seemed to be moving away from the former soldiers, Jack peered around the stack of crates to survey the area. The sight he found nearly stops his heart.

Roughly thirty yards away from him in a cleared-out space at the heart of the building was Kim.

She looked pale, lying on the small cot, her hands tied in front of her. She must have been tied up for a while: he could see the marks on her wrist and some bruising on her arms that looked finger shaped. By her head lay a bright red plastic tube that he recognized as an inhaler.

The world pulsed red around him.

It took everything within Jack to hold himself in place, to keep himself in check as he spoke in hushed anger to his companion.

"We need to get her out of here, Grant. Now."

"I know. There's an emergency exit behind her and to the left. Do you see it?"

He glances in the direction Grant mentioned to find the glowing red sign above the door.

"Untie Kim and get her out that door. I'll cover you from a few yards away, close enough to jump in if necessary but far enough to draw them away if you need a distraction."

Jack dragged his gaze from Kim's prone form to look at Grant, thinking the plan through quickly before giving his reply.

"Okay. I'll take Kim and head straight for the car once we get out."

With a nod, the older man begins to move from his crouched position. He pauses, however, when Jack spoke his name in a hushed tone.

"Be careful."

"Always am, Jack," and then, "You too."

He watched as Grant's bulking form slipped around the corner and out of sight. Then, with a deep breath to steady himself, Jack turned away and moves in the opposite direction.

Crouched low to the ground, he moved with a steady surety, determination in every step. He circled around the outer edge of boxes to remain undetected, moving closer to where Kim was bound on the cot. The closer he got, the more anxious he became, eyes tracing over every small detail of her features in search of injury. There were dark circles under her. She was too pale and looked either asleep or unconscious. He put the conversation he heard earlier, the inhaler, and her condition to conclude that she probably had a bad asthma attack and it was worse because she hadn't had usual medicine on her.

Jack's hand tightened around his gun and for a second he contemplated opening fire on the two men right here and now. It would be so easy from his vantage point to take them out in two shots, one to the back of each of their heads. Then he could grab Kim and get her out of here to safety without trouble. Years of training, however, have taught Jack to act with more integrity than that. Killing was not a plan. It was a last resort.

So instead, Jack continued to silently edge around the boxes towards the place where Kim was tied up. Luck must have been on his side because he managed to reach her without being detected. A small sigh of relief slipped out between Jack's lips as he glanced over his shoulder at the men standing watch, finding them preoccupied with whatever was flashing across their computer screens. Turning back around and crouching down by her side, Jack let his eyes wander over Kim's form, searching for any sign of injury that was too small to see from far away.

Apart from bruises around her wrists and arms, Kim appeared to be fine. Her hair was matted with sweat and dirt. Thick eyelashes clump together, dark circles residing beneath her eyes that scream of exhaustion despite her sleeping form. It was the puffy eyelids and faint tear tracks that really leave Jack winded, feeling as though he's just been sucker punched in the gut. She's been crying.

Tentatively, Jack reached out to cup Kim's cheek in the roughened palm of his hand. When she gave no indication of waking, he laid his gun down on the floor, freeing his other hand to reach up and frame her face. Jack gently run his thumbs back and forth across Kim's cheekbones. Her eyelids fluttered open at the touch as she woke up. The moment she came to, her entire body tensed and jerked away from his hold, eyes shooting open wide in disorientation and panic. Jack just managed to cradle the back of her head.

"Shhh, shhh, shhh! Kim, it's me! It's Jack. I'm here. I'm here."

He locked onto her confused gaze, cautiously watching as the storm in her eyes calmed at the sound of his hushed voice. Recognition and relief flooded through Kim's features as she relaxed into Jack's hold. He nodded and reached to work at the rope knotted around her wrists. This close he could hear the faint wheezing and he knew from experience that she would be weak as the stimulant from the medication wore off.

"I'm going to get you out of here, okay?"

He didn't hear the approaching footsteps until it was too late. The fear and panic in Kim's eyes registered with Jack just as the safety of a gun releases behind him.

"Not so fast there, Giacomo. I believe we have some unfinished business."


	27. Chapter 27

Jack froze, instantly recognizing the voice as Caio's. He whispered quietly to Kim so that only the two of them could hear.

"When I give the signal, you run. Bite your lip if you understand."

Her teeth tugged at her bottom lip for a moment, signaling that she got the message. Worry, however, was still very present in her eyes and Jack knew the majority of it wasn't for herself.

"Hands above your head and step away from the girl. Now."

He did as told, backing away from Kim and slowly turning around to face the man aiming a gun at his chest. There's an element of arrogance to Caio's stance, as if he really believed that he got the jump on Jack. He did to an extent, but Grant was still stationed in the warehouse, waiting to intervene if necessary.

Standing behind Caio near a crude setup of computers is another, older looking man. It took Jack a second to place the somewhat familiar face, but when he did he recognized the individual as Nick Solvate, Bruneri's second in command. Once again he was glad to have done the research on this family. He knew that while Nick stood by Caio, his loyalty was first and foremost to the family and Massimo was his Boss. Jack should have known he would be here.

"If you let us go now, I'll be sure to make your part in our escape clear to the authorities. Her family would be informed of her disappearance if we don't return by a certain hour. We'll leave enough clues to lead them right here. Are you ready for dealing with the police and FBI on fresh charges of kidnapping?"

Caio barked out a laugh at Jack's comment, gun still held at the ready. Solvate remained silent, observing for a beat before speaking in an eerily calm tone of authority.

"It's arrogant that you think you have a say in who stays and who goes, Mr. Brewer. Now please, take a seat."

He gestured towards a metal chair a couple of feet away from him. When Jack made no move towards it, Caio took a threatening step forward. His cousin's face morphed into a sneer at his unwillingness to comply, huffing in agitation as he shuffled closer. Jack's gaze remained locked on Solvate. Caio was the prince of the family, but Solvate would act in the interests of the Bruneri syndicate.

"I won't ask again. I may have orders to keep her in one piece, but the Don didn't say anything about you. Caio here has been itching for a fight for days now."

"Jack, just do what he says."

All three men whipped their heads around to where Kim was seated on the ground. She was kneeling, hands still held together to maintain the illusion of being tied up.

"Hey! Did we say you could talk? Don't give us a reason to have you gagged, bitch."

Jack's jaw clenched tightly in anger at Caio's insult, barely refraining from attacking him. For now.

"Caio, show Jack here to his seat, please."

A large hand shoved at his back, roughly encouraging him to take a step toward the chair and away from Kim. Jack did so with measured reluctance when in all actuality the closer they got to the chair, the further they got from Kim, providing her with a larger window of escape.

A movement along the wall of the warehouse caught his eye. Crouched by a large wooden crate near the bank of computers was Grant, gun at the ready and aimed at Caio ushering Jack along. The two allies locked gazes in silent communication, which Jack hoped was clear to Grant. The message was simple.

Not yet.

"I expected more of a fight from you, Giacomo. Didn't you father teach you? And you gave us a lot of headache. I have to say, I'm a little disappointed."

Jack remained silent, refusing to acknowledge Solvate's taunting words. They were seven feet from the chair… six… five… He stopped short, refusing to move any further.

"All the way, Brewer! This gun ain't just for - "

The second he felt the cool metal of the gun made contact with his person, Jack struck. He quickly pivoted around and grabbed the weapon before slamming his elbow into the side of Caio's jaw. The other man stumbled back a few steps, releasing the gun in disorientation. Jack saw Grant spring into action out of the corner of his eye, gun pointed at Solvate as he shouted at him not to move.

"Kim, go!"

He barked out the command just as Caio recovered. The mobster appeared conflicted for a moment, wondering if he should go after Kim or take a swing at his opponent. Jack made the decision for him, charging at the unarmed man. Caio was fast to react, ducking out of the way as Jack's fist flew at his head. The two men quickly engaged each other, giving Kim time to escape.

The warehouse filled with grunts and shouts as the unarmed men lash out at one another. Jack blocked a jab to his head and retaliated with one of his own. Caio recovered quickly, delivering a swift kick to Jack's side that he just barely dodges. They traded blows back and forth until Jack got the final drop on his opponent, slamming his foot into the guy's knee with enough force to make his legs give out beneath him. The ensuing sharp cry of pain, however, caused Jack to freeze. Because it didn't come from the man he was fighting.

It came from Kim.

Time seemed to stand still as Jack snapped his head toward the noise, the scene he found causing his heart to stop. One of the men that had been standing guard outside had Kim hauled back against his chest by her hair, fist tightly wound in the unruly strands of her golden mane, gun pressed to her fragile temple. Even from across the room Jack could see that she was shaking in the his hold, terrified.

"Let her go!"

As Jack took a step forward, the man holding Kim captive yanked at her hair. The action pulled a small exclamation of pain from her throat and caused Jack to immediately halt his advances. Glancing to his right, he saw that Grant has done the same, the older man's gaze shifting back and forth between the room's occupants in assessment.

"It seems as though we are at a bit of an impasse, Mr. Brewer."

The words come from Solvate, who stood in front of Grant's pointed gun as if its ammunition were comprised of water instead of lead and gunpowder. He appeared unfazed, now that he once again had the upper hand.

"Tell your friend here to lower his gun, would you?"

Jack glanced toward Grant, then moved his gaze back to Kim. She tried to shake her head, but the man holding her tightened his grip on her hair in retaliation. She gritted her teeth, refusing to cry out this time. Despite her efforts, a pained whimper escaped the blonde and it was enough to make Jack's decision for him.

"Grant, do as he says."

The older man hesitated for a second before lowering his weapon.

"On the ground, please. Then slide it over this way."

Again, Grant delayed following Solvate's orders. Jack nodded to him in encouragement and watched as the older man complied, nudging the gun across the floor with his foot. Solvate bent down to grab it, releasing the safety as he turnedd the weapon back around on Grant.

"Hey, Caio! Why don't you get up and show Mr. Grant to a seat."

The man in question was just now pushing himself up off the floor, and Jack observed with a hint of satisfaction as he approached Grant with a slight drag in his left leg. The injury was no doubt a consequence of Jack's final blow before their standstill. The contentment, however, quickly waned as Caio fastened Grant's arms and ankles to the chair.

"Good. Joey, bring Miss Crawford over this way, and Giacomo, if you would be so kind as to follow your friend's example and take a seat."

Slowly, Jack closed the distance between himself and a chair situated a few feet away, gaze steadily bouncing back and forth between the gun trained on him and Kim as her captor moves them toward Solvate. Rough hands hastily shoved him into the chair once he was close enough and began to secure Jack in place.

"Jack, don't! They will not kill me!"

A violent crack rung through the room, followed by a sharp cry as Kim tumbled to the floor after being backhanded by Solvate. Even from a distance Jack could spot the bright red of blood heating beneath her skin, and knew it would cause a fresh bruise to appear within a few hours. Hatred flooded his system, boiling the blood running through his veins. If it weren't for the guns trained on each of them, he would lash out at the nearest mobster. As it was, Jack couldn't hold himself back from growling at the men under his breath.

"You know, she's right. We don't really need her..." Jack tensed up at the very telling hint, but the man continued. "And she's good for buying your cooperation. Although, I don't see anything stopping us from getting a little rough."

The broad-shouldered man grabbed Kim by the top of her arm and yanked her body into his side, shifting to wrap an arm around her waist. He maintained eye contact with Jack the entire time, teasing him, taunting him, daring him to make a move.

"Joey, go over with Caio and keep our guests some company."

The other man did as he was told, crossing the space to where Grant and Jack were seated. He stepped behind Jack's chair and took up post. The distinct sound of the cocking of a gun greeted his ears not long after, and Jack knew the man had the weapon aimed directly at the back of his head. A shot this close was almost guaranteed to be fatal even with minimal placement training. But the weapon drawn on him was not Jack's immediate concern. It was Kim.

"You know, I really was hoping we wouldn't need to resort to drastic measures. All because you couldn't stay away from your little girlfriend here. Like father, like son. Give up everything just for a piece of pussy."

Jack's jaw clenched in anger at the obvious way in which Solvate was toying with him. Disgust filling every ounce of his being as the man tightened his hold on Kim when she jerked in his grasp.

"I see the appeal. Young, beautiful, willing… I bet she's great in bed with all that youthful energy and what not. She's got a fire in her, too. Maybe a little too much of it."

The hand holding up his gun fell to his side and then disappeared behind his back. It returned without the weapon, however, the man was not empty handed. Taking the gun's place was a small syringe filled with clear liquid. Jack's eyes widen, then pull tight in anger as he began to pull at his restraints.

"I swear to God, if you hurt her I will end you, Solvate! And you won't see any of the money you demanded!"

"Ah, ah, ah! I wouldn't do that if I were you," Solate drawled just as Caio snorted. "You think we need your money?! I want you dead!"

The sharp end of the needle kissed the delicate skin of Kim's throat and punctured her skin, just enough to cause a small drop of blood to trickle down the pale column. Jack's struggled cease almost immediately at the sight.

"Good. Now, which of you do we get rid of first? The bastard son of a traitor, or the honorable Army sergeant with a few screws loose?"

Solvate nodded to the man standing behind Jack. The muzzle of a gun pressed into the base of his skull, but Jack did not flinch, did not so much as blink. He saw his parents die in front of him so he was not scared.

"No! Jack!"

The raw fear and desperation in Kim's screams slammed into Jack harder than any bullet ever could.

"Looks like we have ourselves a winner, gentlemen. Kill him."

"NO!"

The following sequence of events seemed to occur in slow motion and then all at once.

Kim managed to get an arm free from Solvate's hold and quickly used it to jerk her elbow into his gut with all her might. Jack loosens his zip-ties enough to slip one of his hands out. The gun went off. The world fell to silence.

A high-pitched tone rung in Jack's ears as searing pain blossomed along the back of his scalp. The bullet had scarcely missed its intended target as he ducked down mere milliseconds before it was fired. He wasted no time moving into action, compartmentalizing the pain away for later. Grabbing the legs of the chair beneath him, Jack quickly slid it through his legs and whirled around to face the mobster. He slammed the metal piece of furniture into the side of his attacker's head, dodging another bullet as he fired aimlessly in Jack's direction. With a swift kick to the man's arm, he quickly disarmed his assailant. Unfortunately, the assault did not succeed in incapacitating the man completely as he pulls out a knife and lunged at Jack.

Cries of fury and pain rose in the room as the fighting continued. Somewhere in the background Jack heard Kim's voice calling out. It served to divert his attention from the fight as his eyes automatically search the room for her. He located Kim, struggling on the ground with Solvate on top of her, and insurmountable rage consumed him. That split second of distraction is all the opportunity his opponent needed to get the jump on him.

Jack reeled backwards as he received a vicious blow to the jaw, head whipping to the side and then forward as the other man latched onto the front of his shirt. He grabbed the guy's arm and the wrist of the hand holding the knife to block him from getting another hit in. The two push against one another, feet shuffling but not daring to leave the ground for fear of relinquishing their stability.

"Jack, look out!"

The shout came from Grant, causing Jack to turn his head in the older man's direction. He found Caio's gun trained on him, his garbage cousin a breath away from pulling the trigger and lodging a bullet deep into Jack's chest. Shifting his weight, Jack forced his opponent to stumble towards him. He used the other man's momentum to spin him around and face Caio just as the gun went off three times in succession. Jack propelled the man's body forward with each impact, using him as a human shield as he advanced on Caio. When the firing stopped, he let the body fall to the floor in a lifeless heap.

Before Jack got the chance to charge at Caio, Grant broke free of his own confines and did it for him. The older man stroke quickly and efficiently, delivering a swift jab to the man's temple. It's one of Grant's perfected moves for incapacitating an opponent and Jack knew before Caio even hits the ground that he was out cold. He only managed one shot at Caio, bullet lodging itself in man's thigh, before he moved. There was no time to dwell on that as he quickly twisted around to locate Kim.

... Right as she stabbed Solvate in the neck with the syringe he had threatened her with earlier and aggressively pushed down the plunger.

"You cunt!"

The man shoved Kim into the ground, slamming her head into the unforgiving concrete. However, the action lacked its intended force as he quickly became disoriented, no doubt due to the sudden dosage of whatever drug was in that syringe, giving Kim the opportunity to propel him off of her. Solvate made a grab at the blonde's waist that she narrowly evaded as she rolled to her side. She fumbled at the space beside her for something that lied out of Jack 's line of sight, even as he was closing the distance to them.

"Get back here you little brat!"

The man gripped Kim's ankle and tugged her towards him.

"Don't touch me!"

In one swift motion, Kim flipped onto her back to face Solvate, arms held straight out in front of her as she levelled a gun with the center of his forehead. Their struggle halted immediately as the room filled with the sounds of heavy breathing. No one moved.

"Let. Go. Of. Me."

She spoke the words as if each is it's own sentence, punctuated by the gritting of her teeth and the tightening of her grip on the gun. Even in his rapidly increasing drugged up state, Solvate knew better than to defy her, letting his hand fall away from Kim's ankle and to the floor with a muted thud. His blown pupils remained trained on the weapon in her hand.

Kim used one hand to scoot herself back and out of Solvate's reach, but kept the gun aimed at his prone form. Tears of anger and rage flooded her dark eyes and as Jack got closer he could just make out the tiny tremors running through her tension-filled body.

"You hurt me. You tried to drug me. You tried to kill the people I care about."

The tears Kim had been holding back silently run down her cheeks. She pressed her lips together to keep from making a sound and adjusted her grip on the handgun. Jack slowly approached her, stopping within a few feet of where she sat.

"Kim…"

Her eyes flashed to meet his and a small sob escaped Kim before she returned her focus to the man on the ground, who was quickly succumbing to the drug in his system.

"I hate you."

The words were barely audible from where Jack stood, but he felt the hurt and the anger behind them as if she had screamed. She still had the weapon pointed at Solvate and for a fraction of a moment Jack wondered if she'd really do it, pull the trigger. But Kim was not a spiteful person. She didn't let hatred or negativity consume her, even in the worst scenarios, even when it was beyond justified for her to feel such things. So when she suddenly moved, implementing the safety on the gun and tossing it to the ground, Jack was already closing the distance between them and reaching out to gather her in his arms.

"Jack."

"Shh, shh, shh. It's okay. It's okay."

Kim clutched at the fabric of his shirt and buried her head into his chest, seeking out the comfort he so readily offered. She didn't sob or cried loudly, just the occasional whimper as Jack rocked her back and forth in his arms.

"It's over. Everything is going to be okay now. You're safe."

Frustration invaded his sense of relief because he knew his words were only partly true. They were barely within the time frame to check in with Milton. If they were late for their check in, Milton sent the police their way. Once the police got here they'd have all the evidence they need to take Caio and his men into custody.

But she hardly would be safe. Caio would walk because of good lawyers and a trial meant Kim would be a witness. That would put a price on her head...

But even if they left now, there always would a danger of Bruneis' vengeance hanging over them.

Jack's lips pressed tightly together as he held Kim impossibly close to his body, never wanting to let her go. His hands gently ran over the expanse of her back and waist, one tangling into her matted hair as he leaned down to press a kiss against the crown of her head. If he was being honest, he might need the contact more than Kim did. He needed to feel her safe and breathing beneath his touch, to assure himself that all those nightmares that have deprived him of sleep for so long did not come to fruition. He needed to feel how alive she was.

Disentangling his hand from Kim's hair, Jack slid it across her shoulder and between their bodies to gently, slowly rest his palm over the left side of her chest. It took a moment, but he soon felt the fast-paced beating of her heart beneath his hand. Jack let the rhythm wash over him, submerge him, drown him until it's all he knew . He lost himself in the irrefutable proof of Kim's existence.

He won this round against his biological family, but the war was far from over.


	28. Chapter 28

They left the warehouse after Jack uploaded Milton's virus again, betting that the computers he saw were connected to the Bruneri Inc. or their home systems.

He carried Kim out as she was too exhausted. The adrenaline of the fight completely depleted her and she didn't even say anything when he simply lifted her in his arms. He knew she was in shock. Seeing a dead body for the first time was truly a drastic experience and she had fought a crazed man, who wanted to drug her. Jack ignored his own worries about her opinion on him to another day. He wasn't the one who shot at the dead man, but he used him as a shield and...

He shook his head and reminded himself to be grateful that she was alive.

They brought her to the hotel, where Grant carefully examined her. Aside from some bruising and shock she was fine. It wasn't long after that she drifted into a sleep and Jack laid her out on the bed, making sure she was always in his sightline.

Grant was checking in on his friends and Jerry left to grab some food for them. Milton was working on his computer. Again. Jack stared at his friend for a while hoping to be noticed, but Milton was too engrossed in his work.

"Milton, what are you doing?" Jack felt deeply tired, but not enough to join Kim in her sleep. The stress was catching up with his body, but his mind was restless.

Milton answered, "It's a project for you. I am making a spreadsheet of the other families and Bruneri capos to determine who is most likely to to cause problems."

"First, by 'might cause problems' you mean kidnap or kill me or hurt Kim, right? And, second, a spreadsheet?"

Milton chuckled with his sarcasm, "No rest for the wicked or the mafia." Milton didn't look up because his precious spreadsheet was calling.

It turned out that Milton combined his research with Marco's and collated information into something of a matrix. Milton walked him through his analysis. Jack recognized some of the names, and knew most of the important details about them, but Milton's notes were exhaustive. He knew who needed money to support an expensive mistress, who grumbled about Massimo's rules, and who thought Caio was a spoiled brat playing at being a gangster.

"Did you do all of this in just two days?" Jack was a bit awed. He knew Milton kept tabs on the Bruneris, but Milton's knowledge was clearly more extensive than he would've expected.

"I had a fair bit of this already, and Marco helped." Milton responded modestly. "Anyway, the important thing is that we have it."

Jack was a little surprised by 'we,' but Milton was stubborn and aligned himself with Jack.

"What do you know about Hugo Pravo?" Milton asked, returning to testing his mafia knowledge.

"He is an enforcer in Atlanta...Nashville?" Jack guessed. Milton shook his head at each of the things that he said. He tried another answer, "Uh, he does something mafia related south of the Mason-Dixon line?"

Milton rolled his eyes at his hedging, "Correct only in so much as that was too vague to be wrong."

"Help me Obi-Wan. You're my only hope," implored Jack. He was mostly joking, but he was realizing that if he was going to survive while keeping Kim alive, it was going to be with Milton's help.

Milton took his request at face value and started to walk him through the various La Cosa Nostra chapters in the US. His method was very detailed, and not based on geography so much as power, available resources, and apparent leadership issues. He had already prioritized the capos likeliest to try and dethrone Massimo and Caio through underhand methods, and made sure to cover all of them in unrelenting exactitude.

Like Marco, he put Solvate at the top of the list of people likely to make a play for Don position through Jack. If others wanted to simply kill Caio, Solvate played at gaining absolute favor of Massimo. Which meant tolerating Caio and killing Jack. Even before Milton's briefing he had been inclined to agree that Solvate was a problem and that before he knew he was apparently a Bruneri himself.

Jack's one and only encounter with Solvate had been marked by violence, cruelty, and general creepiness that saw Kim hurt.

As Milton discussed the capos, their actual revenue sources, their staff, and their relationships with other capos, Jack stated to see a pattern.

"You're grouping them based on their support of Massimo versus Solvate, aren't you?" he observed.

Milton paused from his discussion of Chicago's capo, "Not just their support of Massimo, but their willingness to support his heir apparent."

Jack scrunched his nose because Milton's statement did not compute. "What does it have to do with me?"

Milton looked at him for a long time, "You could be the heir too."

The thought was shocking. So much so that Jack was slack-jawed as he stared at his friend in confusion.

"What? What does it mean? You know I want nothing to do with that life!" as he spoke Jack grew more irritated and nearly snapped at Milton.

"I know that! I'm not saying you have to become the Don. But just the mere presence of another claimant could wreak havoc on them. Those capos, who don't like Caio, could potentially align themselves with someone, who is family and-"

"No! I'm not interested in that. I want Massimo and Caio gone, it's true, but I have no interest in their empire. And if I can't have them gone, I want them to leave myself and Kim alone." Jack was adamant.

"I don't think that could happen. You cost them money, you challenged them, you knocked Caio down. Hell, you even shot him!"

"Then I'll fight them the same way as before. Dismantle and undermine them, until their syndicate is nothing more than a memory."

"It'll take time."

"They can't fight on several fronts at the same time. Let's give them a war that would distract them and they will have to leave Kim be."

Milton and Jack stared at each other. Milton blinked first.

"Fine."

"Like you said, Solvate is loyal and ambitious, so let's make sure Massimo knows what his nipote* and consiglieri were up to and how they lost to a teen and one soldier. Let all Cosa Nostra know their incompetence in keeping one hostage. Let it also be known how Bruneri's lost money in stock trading. I reintroduced your bug and sooner or later it will hit them again. Let's also hit the Pravo's business with a similar rogue code. Let's see if it causes frictions. Eventually, Massimo's or Caio's authority would be challenged. As it is, with a loss of Amato, their California operations are weakened and we know that the Triad made a play for it. I plan t sue them too. Rather my company that lost money would. Let them have multiple conflicts and see if they have enough margins to cover them all."

"You have thought it through..." Milton sounded impressed and a little bit sad.

Jack paused to consider his answer, "I planned this for a long time. At first, I just wanted revenge. I still do. But I also want to survive. I realize now that Kim and I would never be fully safe until they are gone." He stopped and looked at his friend directly, "Milton, this is serious. I already dragged you all into this mess and I know that you wanted to help me before, but this is serious. These people shoot to kill. I should have told you all the full truth before you got tangled..." He paused again to carefully chose words. "I can suspend my plans against them until we graduate and then you and your family would be out of the crosshairs-"

"And who would help you with your digital warfare? You know I am the brains of that part of operation," Milton said with some morbid humor, but Jack remained serious. Milton sighed, "I get it Jack. And I figured most of it myself long before you were ready to tell me. It is not ideal, but we've done good too. Like vigilantes. And... And I know that what you've done for Kim, you'd do for me in a heartbeat. You are like a brother to me and let's face it, your only other option for a brother is that jerk Caio and really, I think it's not even a question that I win this particular contest. So, I'm in. Let's bring them down."

They held gaze for a weighted moment and Jack nodded minutely agreeing to Milton's choice.

"I'll talk to Jerry too. He has his own family."

"And then Kim. She is in danger more than any of us connected to you."

Something in Milton's voice made Jack remember some of his readings on mafia, "Is that why you wanted it to be known that I'm a Bruneri? So, she has more protection?"

"Yeah, people know that she is your Achilles heel. But mafia at least has certain rules about wives and children..."

"Still, my father was a traitor to the Bruneris. They'll not be too choosy when it comes to getting back at me."

Suddenly a tired voice drifted from the doorway, "That's what Caio told me. That I'll be a target because of you."

Milton scrambled and rushed to give Kim a hug, fussing over her a little, "Kim, you should rest."

"I'm hungry though. All I had for two days were some measly energy bars," she said as she walked to sit next to Jack.

"Oh, Jerry's getting us some food," Milton said quickly.

"Food would be good. Although I saw a food truck outside with the bubble tea and all I could think about in the warehouse was the coconut boba drink," Kim finished quietly and Milton immediately picked up on her hint.

"On it. One coconut bubble tea coming right up," Milton said cheerfully and walked towards the door.

The endearing, soft smile Kim had as Milton left, had Jack's heart beating just a little faster. He went days without seeing her smile or knowing if he ever would again. That realization slammed him hard in the chest and caused his breath to catch in his throat. He barely registered Milton's departure from the room aside from the sounds of the door clicking shut.

Lost in the onslaught of emotion, Jack leaned in without realizing to press a soft, tender kiss to Kim's lips. His hand cradled the base of her head, fingers sliding between soft golden strands of hair as he changed their angle to deepen the kiss. When they broke apart he didn't move away, opting instead to rest his forehead against hers and embrace the feeling of finally being close to her once again. They were both slightly out of breath, lips parted and just brushing against each other with each ragged inhale.

"I love you. You have no clue how terrified I was that I would never get the chance to tell you that again, never get to show you. God, Kim, I was such a mess. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. I - "

A small hand reached up to cradle his jaw, Kim's soothing yet insistent voice stopping him from going any further.

"Hey, hey, hey. I'm here now, okay? I'm here and I'm safe and I'm with you. It's all gonna be okay now."

Jack closed his eyes and leans into the palm of her hand. His eyes remained shut as he whispered his response.

"I can't imagine my life without you in it."

There was more to his words than the pain from being parted from her. He knew that she knew about his half-truths and omissions and all the danger being with him entailed. He struggled to form words to explain, to justify, to beg mercy-

"You don't have to."

She must have felt the tension still in his body because Kim quickly moved to take his face in both of her hands, slightly shifting him away from her.

"Jack, look at me."

She waited for him to do as told before continuing, gaze steadily locked onto his.

"I am not going anywhere. Well, no, we'll be going to college soon, which we also need to talk about but that's a conversation for a later date. But-" She looked down and gathered her thoughts, "At first, when Caio told me about you being a Bruneri and the things you did in Seaford against Amato, I was... shocked. But then I was surprised that I was shocked, because there were signs of it and I wish you told me the whole truth earlier. But I guess I get why you didn't. Because I don't know if I would have stayed with you if I knew all of it beforehand, but... But as I was there, with my hands tied and listening to that jerk spout off about you, I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that you will come for me. That you would fight every battle and use every trick in the book. That you would return fire with fire and that you know that sometimes you have to use their methods and... My point is that I'm here now and I'm safe because you are who you are. And I accept it. I love _you_. All of you. You hear me?"

"Kim... You held a gun in your hand..." the sound that escaped Jack's throat was too low to be called a cry, but it was anguished and sorrowful. "I never wanted you to be touched by this kind of ugliness."

"I'm sure your parents didn't want it for you either, but the truth is life is ugly. And beautiful. And everything in between. And to me, the beautiful parts are hundred times more beautiful when I'm with you and they are worth all the ugly stuff."

The conviction in her eyes blazed with a ferocity that was only matched by his own feelings right then. He let himself get lost in it, borrowing from the strength of the incredible woman before him. And then he allowed himself to believe her.

"Okay."

Kim searched his eyes, making sure he wasn't just agreeing with her for the sake of agreeing. She must have been satisfied as a small loving smile bloomed on her lips.

"Okay. And one more thing."

"What?"

Instead of answering, she leaned forward to press a deep kiss against his mouth, letting everything she's just said poor into the action. Jack lost himself in the kiss, giving just as much as he got. When Kim pulled away, they're both breathing a little heavier than they were before.

"I love you, too. Always."

He echoed her without hesitation.

"Always."

It was in that moment that he knew how his father felt. He knew that they'd be the ones that made it all the way to the end. Through the good and the bad that was yet to come, all the trials and tribulations that life had planned for them, they were going to push through it all together. This love that he fought against and now fought for, this love was his true purpose and goal. He was cold and alone and lonely for so long, he thought that was all that was in store for him, but she brought him warmth, and light, and love, and spring. She woke him from the endless winter that was his life and he was not going back to that.

He never been more sure of anything in his life.

She was his spring and he was never letting go.

* * *

*Nipote (Italian) - grandson.

A/N: This is the end, my friends. I am forever grateful to all of you, who read and reviewed this story. Thank you for taking chance on dark Jack and his Bambola.


End file.
